Lonely Dixon
by Dovahkiir2015
Summary: Sequel to Dixon Daughter. Rambo isn't with the group currently, for her own safety as well as theirs. Doesn't mean she likes it though. Then things get worse for her when she meets someone who isn't used to having to fight for survival. While Rambo is trying to keep herself and her new companion alive, Daryl and the group meet someone with quite strong ties to Rambo and Daryl.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hey, guys! For anyone new to my writing, this is the sequel to Dixon Daughter, and I highly recommend you go read that so you can better understand what's going on in this one. To anyone who has read Dixon Daughter... welcome back! Hope you like this one, too. So... get into it! Enjoy :D**

* * *

 ** _Start of the outbreak_**

 _Evelyn rolled over in her sleep, which ended up waking her up. She groaned in pain and opened her eyes, curling up slightly. Anne darted an apologetic look at her, then looked back at the road ahead of her. The only reason this had happened was because of her. Evie had been sticking up for her, that was all. She didn't deserve this._

 _"You alright, Evie?"_

 _"What do you think?" The child challenged. She still hadn't forgiven her mom for what had happened, believed that she shouldn't have married the guy in the first place. But no one could have known that this is what would happen._

 _"Look, baby –"_

 _"Don't call me that. I'm not a child anymore."_

 _"You're nine, honey. I'm sorry, but you're still a child. I just want to say –"_

 _"I don't care. Pay attention to the road. Wouldn't want to crash." Evelyn muttered. For a nine year old kid she could honestly seem like a spoilt teenage brat with an attitude problem. Anne hoped that if they found Daryl he'd manage to persuade her to change, to make her open up. A small smile tweaked at her lips. That would be the day. He was probably about as bad as Evie was, if not worse. Anne slammed on the brakes and Evelyn yelped in surprise and pain._

 _"Shit!" Anne hissed. Evelyn grabbed her crutches and made her way to the front of the camper van, a worried look in her eye._

 _"What's going on?" She asked. Anne shook her head._

 _"I'm not too sure. Stay here." She said, standing up and opening the door, walking out onto the now completely backed up road. Traffic jam. Of all the times..._

 _"Mom!" Evelyn called out. Anne turned around and ran back to the camper van. Evelyn had sounded scared. There was a crash and then nothing._

 _"Evie? Evie!" Anne called out. Evelyn stumbled out of the camper van, her crutches and clothes covered in blood. She looked terrified, tears streaming down her face. Possibly from pain, considering it wasn't just her leg that was broken, but one of her arms was fractured. Anne pulled the girl into a hug, looking down at her._

 _"Are you alright? What happened?" Evelyn didn't reply, just buried her face deeper into Anne's jacket, "It's OK, you're OK." Anne crooned, then pushed her away gently and headed into the camper van. There was a body on the floor, its head a messy pulp. Anne couldn't help it. She screamed._

* * *

 _ **Now**_

 _ **Evelyn**_

She walked through the abandoned streets, keeping an eye out for walkers and other people. It was getting dark and the wind was picking up slightly. She pulled the tattered remains of her shirt tighter around her, wanting to maintain what little warmth she could. She headed into the closest house, pulling out her gun and checking every room to make sure the house was completely empty. She then checked for a back door, ensuring she had at least one other escape route, then made her way up the stairs so she would have a better vantage point. She dumped her bag on the floor, pulling out a small pack of nuts of some description, counting her luck that she had no nut allergies, that she was only allergic to nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. Well, that she knew of. But not being allergic to nuts right now was the main blessing. She hadn't managed to find any food recently. She sighed and sat down on the windowsill and looked out over the abandoned town, keeping an eye out. She didn't know how long she could keep this up for. She had been running for more than a year now. She looked up at the darkening sky, watching as the clouds rolled in.

"It's gonna get cold tonight." She said, looking around before remembering she was alone. She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck with her right arm, the scar on it clear even in the gloom. She missed her friends, hoped that they were safe, that they had gotten out. Hoped that they were somewhere warm.

"I know you can't hear me, but still... I hope you're in better condition than I am," She murmured as she looked back out the window, settling down for a long cold night, "Hope you have some form of shelter."

* * *

 _ **The group**_

Daryl sat looking into the fire, watching the patterns it made with its flickering tendrils that reached for the sky. His crossbow was beside him, though he only had a couple of arrows left. He had lost a few by now, some he just couldn't retrieve because they were in the middle of a walker herd, others had gotten broken, and some he simply, somehow, managed to lose. Carol moved and sat next to him as he chucked another log on the fire.

"You alright?" She asked. He grunted in answer. He knew what she was talking about, but he didn't want to talk about it. It was a pitty that she did.

"I know what it's like, you know. To lose a kid."

"Rambo ain't lost."

"You don't know where she is. Anything could have happened to her." Carol pointed out. Daryl looked at her, unimpressed. He knew she was just trying to comfort him or something like that, explain how he was feeling, but he knew all this. These had been the thoughts he had been thinking for slightly over a year. Judith was curled up in Carl's arms, almost asleep. It was quite late and they had done a fair bit of walking since they were kicked out of the last camp they had set up. Some bastard set fire to it while they slept. Rick was already asleep by the side of the barn they were sheltering in. It was falling down, its roof collapsed in places, but they had managed to find a seemingly stable enough area to set up camp for a night. Enid was resting her head on Carl's shoulder. It seemed like over the past year they'd gotten even closer, if that was possible. Half the time it seemed like they were essentially inseparable.

"She could have been bit, could be dead."

"She's smart, she knows how to look out for herself."

"Yeah, but shit happens."

"What do you want me to do? Just assume she's dead?"

"No, I want you to look for her." Carol said, perfectly calmly. Daryl looked at her like she was nuts. He knew she had lost her own kid, who would be around Rambo's age, a bit older. The girls she had pretty much adopted would also have been similar ages. He knew she had suffered when they had died.

"She doesn't want to be found." Daryl said. Carol shrugged.

"How do you know?"

"Because she said as much."

"When? In the journal? Things might have changed."

"If she wants to be found she'll find us," Daryl said, standing up and grabbing his crossbow, "I'm gonna take watch. You better get some sleep." And he left the barn, going and sitting outside. He just needed time to think. The wind was picking up and rain was starting to come down in buckets. He hoped that Rambo was alright, hoped that she had found somewhere out of the rain. Who knew where she was at the moment, she mightn't even still be in the same state as them. He watched the rain falling, just thinking. He seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. Mostly he thought about Rambo, about where she could be. He hardly ever thought of her as Evelyn now, she just didn't seem like the name was right for her. He had forgiven her for what happened ages ago, though he wasn't so sure if Rick did. She had, after all, put everyone in danger, and the gun shot wound still gave him pain on nights like this. Daryl thought that Rick forgot on occasion that the only reason he was still alive was that Rambo had risked her own life and donated blood so that he could survive. Yes, she had mucked up, but she had also risked more than her fair share to keep them safe. Hell, she was already losing a lot of blood when the transfer started. If he wasn't already dead, Daryl would have killed the prick who did that to her. He looked up at the sky for a second, then shook his head. Chances were that Rambo didn't even think of them anymore. She had always found it easier on her own, even when she was just a kid. Or that's what she had said. She was a rather solitary person. Was she even still alive? He had to believe that she was. His daughter being dead wasn't an option.

* * *

 ** _Evelyn_**

There was a crash from downstairs and she frowned, carefully getting off the windowsill and crossing over to the door. Was she found, or was it a walker? Might be just another traveller seeking shelter from the storm. She held her gun at her side, ready to fire, her machete in its sheath, ready in case things turned bad. There were footsteps on the stairs, then the heavy sound of someone tripping, the quiet sound of someone cursing. It was quiet, but she suspected that it was a guy, judging by the voice. She rested her hand on the handle of the door, readying herself to open it. It opened outwards, and the hall wasn't very wide. The footsteps resumed, and soon they were right outside the door. She opened it, sending the boy falling backwards, clutching at his nose. She looked at him coldly as the blood poured out.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiit, that hurt! Wha – "

"Shut up. I don't fancy anyone hearing where we are." She hissed. The boy looked at her in confusion, propping himself up on his elbow, still covering his nose with the other. He didn't look like much of a threat. From what she could see of him in the gloom, he had pale blond hair and reasonably fair skin, even though it was slightly sun damaged. He didn't appear to have any weapons on him. She lowered her gun and put it back in its holster, holding out a hand to help him up. He looked at her for a moment, then took her hand in his bloodied one. She pulled a face. She did kinda deserve that.

"Who are you?" He asked in hushed tones.

"I'm Rambo. You?"

"Dillan. Rambo is a weird name, for a girl." The newbie said. Rambo rolled here eyes.

"If you think that Rambo is my real name, you're dumber than you look." She hissed as she pulled a handkerchief out of her pack, handing it over to him after wiping her hand on it. She then went and closed the door behind him, still wondering if she should trust him. She didn't know him, though he seemed perfectly harmless. Felix had seemed like a perfectly harmless person, and yet he would have happily slit someone's throat while they slept. She still felt the loss of her old friend quite keenly, it was a burden weighing on her every day. No one who knew him except her knew he was dead. She had never told anyone about his death, not that it mattered. Carl had been about the only other person who knew both her and Felix. Dillan was looking around the room, holding the handkerchief to his nose and trying to stop the bleeding.

"You here on your own?"

"Yep, just me."

"How long have you been on your own?"

"A while."

"You're not very chatty are you?"

"Nope, and I wish you'd shut the hell up. I'd rather not be torn to shreds by walkers because of some guy I just met who refused to shut up."

"Well, that was just said." Rambo turned and looked at him with cold eyes, contemplating the many ways she could kill him if worst came to the worst. Why had she trusted him in the first place? Maybe she was more lonely than she realised. Dillan watched her as she set up a bed roll and sleeping bag. It was a thin sleeping bag, but warm enough. It added another layer at any rate. Dillan, meanwhile, had a nice leather jacket and hoody. Evelyn was mildly jealous. Maybe she could kill him for the jacket and hoody? She shook her head slightly, smiling at how petty she was being.

"What?" Dillan asked.

"Nothing. You got the time?"

"Ah... no. My watch died a couple of days ago."

"What about the day?"

"Um... July 23rd."

"You kidding me?" Rambo looked around at Dillan with an amused look on her face. He shrugged.

"Weird of me to keep track, I know, but I need something to stay the same. Keeping track of the date was my way of preventing insanity." He explained. Rambo smiled slightly and shook her head, looking back at her makeshift bed.

"These days, you're lucky if you don't show one sign of insanity I suppose. Being sane these days is completely different to being sane back before the world went to shit."

"I guess so," There was silence, "So how long have you been in here for?"

"I only got here tonight. Leaving again in the morning."

"Then shouldn't we be getting some rest?"

"We?"

"Look, I'm on my own and I have been going a bit loopy. I don't think I can survive a lot longer on my own."

"You managed this long."

"My mom died recently. I was travelling with her." He drew in the dust with his foot and Rambo stopped moving. She knew what it was like to lose her mom. It had been painful. She looked back around at him and nodded.

"OK then. You can travel with me for a bit, though I don't see how it'll be a hell of a lot safer than if you travel on your own. It ain't just walkers trying to kill me."

"Walkers?"

"Undead freaks, walkers, whatever you want to call them." Rambo shrugged carelessly. Dillan snorted, looking rather amused.

"Yep, OK. So who else is trying to kill you?"

"Group I used to be with. I kinda killed two of their leaders. It's a long story, one that I don't really want to talk about."

"Then can I tell you about me?"

"Not like I can stop you, unfortunately." Rambo muttered. Dillan smiled. He had a nice smile, crooked, kinda awkward looking, but all the same, it was nice. And it was genuine. It made for a nice change, having someone genuine around. All the other people she had been with, aside from the group in Alexandria, had seemed false for a while. Everyone except this guy, apparently. He sat down opposite her.

"Dillan Jay McIntyre. That's my full name. Mom named me after my dad. He died before I was born, building accident. She looked after me as best she could, never remarried. I had an older sister. Marie. She was the nicest person I knew, I could tell her anything. She watched me while Mom was out working. When everything went down she was out with friends. I haven't seen her since. Mom and I managed to get out after looking for her. Got caught in a traffic jam then went the rest of the way on foot."

"Where are you from?"

"Outer reaches of Atlanta. Man, Mom and I ran. We just ran and ran. Ended up with a group of people who looked after us. We travelled together for a while, until recently when we got separated. Herd of moaners walked through."

"Moaners? That what you call the undead freaks? Or walkers?" Evelyn asked as Dillan went slightly pink, "There are a lot of different names for these things, aren't there? I've heard them called biters, walkers... skin eaters, lurchers. It's interesting what people come up with. So what happened to her? Your mom?"

"She got bit. Told me to keep running. Then I came here. So there you go. My life in a nutshell."

"Sounds fun."

"Yeah... what about you? Where are your folks?"

"I lost them." Rambo looked at her hands. This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Dillan looked away awkwardly, thinking about what she had just said.

"Looks like we have something in common, then." He said after a moment. Rambo shrugged.

"Perhaps."


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Group**_

It had gotten a lot stormier over night than the group had anticipated it would, and getting out of the barn was a bit of a struggle due to all the debris that had piled up against the door, but eventually they managed to push their way out. It was still cloudy, a bit of rain falling, but not to the extent of the previous night. Daryl looked out, trying to spot any walkers or other dangers.

"How much further do you think we need to go?" Rick asked. Daryl shrugged.

"Dunno. We don't even know exactly where we are or where we're headed."

"We're running low on food, so somewhere with food would be a good start." Carol suggested. Rick looked around.

"Yeah, that could be easier said than done."

"I might know where we can get some food, not enough for a filling meal but maybe enough to keep us going?" Carl stepped forwards, Judith clinging to his hand. Daryl looked at her. It was surprising how fast kids grew. It didn't seem like all that long ago that she'd just been a baby, and now look at her. She was growing straight up like a weed. Rick looked at Carl in mild surprise.

"Where?"

"Rambo, she gave me her journal. There are these... things... she gave me the journal so I could find them if I needed to." Carl looked at Daryl. It seemed like everyone was tip toeing around him at the mention of Rambo, when in truth he didn't really mind. It was only when they said something stupid about her, and the person at most risk of that was, in fact, Rick. It was strange how much Rick seemed to want to forget about her, how much anger almost came to the surface when she was mentioned. It seemed like he forgot she was the one who saved his life. Her blood was running in his veins.

"You sure they're safe?" Rick asked. Carl nodded.

"Yeah, she took me to one near Alexandria. It's where she got the antibiotics for her arm from."

"Alright then. I want you to take –"

"I'll go with him." Daryl said. Rick looked at him and after a moment nodded.

"OK. We'll stay here until it clears up." He and Carol headed back inside, Carl looking at Daryl. Judith stayed there for a moment and then went back into the barn with her dad, her blonde hair tied up in pig tails. She suited pig tails, made her look more innocent, but that kid could kill a person without a second glance, though Rick never gave her a weapon except in the most dire circumstances. Even then, Lori would've been completely unimpressed. She wouldn't have wanted her little girl to know how to use a weapon, but in this world, kids knowing how to fight was the norm. Even if there weren't any walkers left, humans would still have posed a threat.

"I don't know how far we'll have to go, exactly." Carl said.

"Then we better get moving." Daryl grunted. He didn't care how far he had to walk. He just wanted to get away from most people for a while, and if these things had anything to do with Rambo then there could be a chance that she'd be nearby. Not a big chance, but it was still a chance. Might give an idea of if she was alive still or not. Carl adjusted his hat.

"Alright." He said, then started walking, Daryl following not too far behind with his crossbow ready to fire. He really needed more bolts.

* * *

"So how much further do you think it is?" Daryl asked, ducking at an awkward angle to avoid a low hanging branch and vines that were draped over it. Carl smiled.

"I did tell you, I don't know how far it is."

"Thought you might have an idea by now."

"The last mark I saw was a while back, so we should be getting closer."

"No shit."

"Hey, you asked." For a moment there was silence, just the sound of their footsteps on the twigs and leaves on the forest floor. Daryl was thinking about what Carl had said. Marks? He hadn't actually seen anything that could be identified as a man made mark. Rambo really knew what she was doing, unless it wasn't her who made the marks, when someone else really knew what they were doing. He spotted a squirrel scampering up a tree and deftly put an arrow through its spine, then headed over to collect it. He held up his hand to stop Carl, who froze on the spot, and crept back to him.

"Walkers, small herd of them."

"How far?"

"Not far enough." Daryl muttered, turning Carl around and pushing him to find somewhere to hide. Behind a tree or something. There were too many walkers for the two of them to take on alone, so they hid and waited. Fortunately the herd wasn't headed for the group. He didn't know how long they stood there for, but eventually the walkers had passed and they pressed on, walking to who knew where in the middle of who knew where. Daryl was starting to wonder if Carl even knew what he was doing.

"Should be around here somewhere." Carl said, kicking aside a branch. Daryl stepped past him and checked out the area for any dangers. There was absolutely nothing there that he could see, nothing out of the ordinary. He lowered his crossbow and looked back at Carl.

"You sure?"

"This is my first time finding a cache without Rambo. I'm not that sure." Carl admitted. Daryl grunted in answer.

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

"The one near Alexandria was a hole in the ground covered with a sheet of metal and a layer of dirt, then a bunch of branches."

"These people know what they're doing." Daryl muttered. Carl nodded.

"Rambo helped set up the caches, so they should know what they're doing." He explained, shifting another branch and stepping where it had been, looking up at Daryl when a hollow, metallic sound came from it. Daryl stepped over and cleared the dirt from it, shifting the sheet of metal out of the way. Carl knelt down, looking at what was in the cache as Daryl kept watch.

"Hey, Daryl." Carl called back and Daryl looked around, frowning slightly as Carl held out a quiver with eight bolts for Daryl's crossbow in it. Daryl stepped forward and took it, flinging it over his shoulder just as Carl looked back inside the cache and laughed slightly, making Daryl look at him funny. He shook his head and pulled out an eyepatch and a note with scribbled handwriting on it.

"It's from her. Rambo." He said and Daryl held out a hand to take the note, "She wasn't here too long ago. She's still alive."

"Or she was a few days ago." He tucked the note into a pocket to read later, if he got the chance. Carl tucked the eyepatch into his own pocket, his eye still covered by the old bandage. He redid it every morning after cleaning the eye, Daryl had seen him, seen the wound. It looked a hell of a lot better than it used to, but it wasn't exactly something that you'd want a kid like Judith to see, even if she was a tough little ass kicker.

"Can I ask you something?" Carl asked.

"You just did."

"Something else, I mean."

"Go ahead."

"When you go off on your own... are you looking for Rambo?" Daryl paused for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah."

"You think we're going to find her?" Carl looked up at him, uncertainty in his one remaining eye. Daryl nodded again. He wasn't sure about anything, but he wanted to be, wanted to believe that they were going to find her. He hadn't known his daughter for very long, but in that time it felt like they'd gotten to understand each other better, despite the rocky start and the rockier finish. He just wanted her back, wanted to make sure she was safe.

"Yeah. I do." At that moment a scream rang out through the air. They didn't pause, just started running in the direction of the scream. Daryl fired a bolt through the head of a walker, sending it falling face first into mud. There was a woman there, stuck in the mud, trying to escape, but her struggles just got her stuck deeper into the mud. Carl stabbed another walker in the head, then stood by the water looking at the woman. Daryl joined him a moment later, a slight frown on his face. The woman struggled to move, just about falling over. She looked at them for a moment, her eyes landing on Daryl. All her struggles ceased and she just looked at him. Her hair was caked with mud, her face smeared with filth. But her eyes... Daryl knew those eyes. He was certain of it.

"Um... could you give me a hand? I'm a little stuck." The woman said, a shake in her voice.

"I think I saw some rope back in the cache." Carl said, heading back. Daryl nodded, staying where he was. The woman held her hands above the water, trying to keep her balance as she started trying to pull herself out again.

"You're probably just making yourself sink further in." Daryl pointed out. She stopped struggling and looked at him.

"And I can see you just leaping in to help me." She said.

"No point in us both getting stuck in the mud. How'd you get that far out?"

"The ground was fine right up to here. Reasons I hate rivers and streams and the like. The ground is more unpredictable." Beneath the dirt on her face, Daryl could see a smile spread. It was a nice smile, a kind smile. He didn't respond. He didn't know how to. At that moment Carl came back with a rope and tied one end around a nearby tree, throwing the other end to the woman. Daryl grabbed hold of the rope with Carl, ready to start pulling when necessary. She grabbed it, then nodded.

"I'm ready when you are." She said. Daryl nodded, briefly glancing at Carl, who nodded back. With enough effort they managed to haul her to safety, where she collapsed into Daryl's arms, completely worn out, the adrenaline leaving her. Daryl looked at Carl, who nodded and stepped away, heading back to the safety cache.

"Anne?" Daryl pushed the woman back slightly, looking in her face. She beamed up at him.

"I wasn't sure you remembered or recognised me." She whispered. Daryl wasn't entirely sure how to react. First he met up with a daughter he didn't know he had. She dropped out of his life, and around a year later his ex girlfriend, who he thought was dead, showed up again. It posed a heap of questions, and not many answers. She leaned against him, giving him a hug which he hesitantly returned.

"I met Evelyn." He said. Anne stepped back and looked at him incredulously, searching his eyes as though trying to catch him out on a lie. She used to be able to do that, tell when he was lying. It unsettled him a bit, her being able to know him so well.

"Where?"

"Near where we used to live."

"Where is she now? Daryl, I have to see her, I need to explain – "

"She's gone." He said, firmly. Anne shook her head.

"No... no, she..."

"She ain't dead. Shit happened and she left." Anne placed her hand on her chest, a fist just above her heart as though that would calm her down. Her breathing was heavy, more laboured. Daryl just watched her. He still wasn't sure how he felt about her any more, he hadn't seen her for so long. Time would have changed them both more than they cared to admit.

"But she's OK?"

"Far as I know."

"How did she... how did she survive this long?" Anne asked. Daryl knew what she meant, knew about Anne's husband and how she and Rambo were treated.

"She's a smart kid."

"The smartest child in the world wouldn't have been able to survive out there with injuries to that extent. Not on their own."

"She got help."

"From who? She didn't know anyone!"

"You left her. She found someone to help her." Anne looked at Daryl like he'd grown a second head, horrified.

"She told you about that?"

"It took a while, but yeah. She did." Anne shook her head, looking at the ground in front of her like a child who had been caught stealing a cookie from the jar or something like that. She was ashamed of what she had done, that much was obvious. But despite that, despite hardly knowing Rambo, he still didn't know if he could forgive her for it. She'd left their kid behind to die.

"Come on. We got a camp."

"You mean... I can join you?" Anne looked up at him, hopeful. He nodded.

"Yeah. Might have to answer a couple of questions though."

* * *

 **OK, sorry for any strange mistakes, like weird typos or something like that. I work on a tablet, and it simply loves weird mistakes. And autocorrecting things. Really annoying, and I don't always notice.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Start of the outbreak**_

 _Anne stumbled back out and looked at Evelyn in terror. She had known her daughter was capable of some rather horrifying things, there was more than one reason she was home schooled from the age of seven. She was a danger to others, so sending her to a school with other children wasn't a good idea, and because of her step-dad hurting her so often. Now she had just bashed in someone's head with her crutches. Anne shook her head, looking at Evelyn as she stood there, shaking from her terror and the tears that escaped her._

 _"Mom..." She moved forward slightly and Anne stumbled away, leaving Evelyn standing there, wondering what she did wrong. At that moment screams came up from all over the city, able to be heard from ages away, people in the vehicles in front of them were also screaming, people all around them stampeding past, pushing Evelyn over and trampling her. Her cries of pain echoed over the screams of terror, pushing Anne into action. She struggled through the crowds and picked Evelyn up in her arms, carrying her back to the camper van, trying hard not to look at the headless body on the floor._

 _"You alright?"_

 _"It hurts." She cried, curling up on herself. Anne hoped that no more bones had been broken, she suspected that they wouldn't be able to return to Atlanta after this. She didn't know what was happening, but judging by how many screams were coming from the city, she suspected it wasn't a place she wanted to take Evelyn. Anne pulled her closer into a hug, gently stroking her hair._

 _"You'll be fine. You're strong. You'll be fine." She was saying it as much for her benefit as it was for Evelyn's. She hardly noticed when Evelyn stopped crying and pushed away, hardly noticed the girl slowly and painfully making her way to the back of the van and looked out the window. She froze, clutching the edge of the frame, her knuckles going white._

 _"We have to get out of here," She said, "Mom, we have to get out of here!" She said, louder this time, hobbling back to Anne and tugging on her sleeve. Anne looked at her and frowned._

 _"What?"_

 _"We have to go! Something's coming, we need to go now."_

 _"No, you go out there and you'll be trampled. I am not letting that happen."_

 _"A second ago you were scared of me, now you're wanting to protect me? Mom, please. Please." She seemed so young, so innocent, so defenceless in that moment that it spurred Anne into action again, pushing the door open, then crouched down for Evelyn to hop on her back before forcing her way into the crowd. They'd return for their stuff once the panic was over._

* * *

 _ **Now**_

 _ **Evelyn**_

Rambo hardly slept that whole night because she was too busy worrying about what Dillan might do to her. She didn't know him, so couldn't trust him. He gave a loud snort in his sleep and Rambo looked at him, startled. She didn't know people could make noises quite like that while they slept. She hoped she wasn't that loud. She rolled her eyes when he snored again and kicked him in the ribs, making him jerk awake.

"Wha – what's happening?" He asked. Rambo shook her head.

"You're hopeless. We're moving."

"Why? We're safe here, aren't we?"

"How many places have you been that actually count as safe?" There was a pause as Dillan thought, then he shrugged.

"Not many."

"Exactly. And I did say that it ain't just walkers trying to kill me."

"You didn't say why people were trying to kill you. You said you didn't want to talk about it, but if I'm travelling with you..." He looked at Rambo, his eyes sparkling with mischief. She raised her eyebrows, unimpressed.

"I killed two of their top officers, for want of a better word. Got labelled a traitor. Punishment for traitors ain't something that you'd want to see, let alone be subject to."

"What do they do? What group were you in?"

"When I was a kid, maybe a few months after the outbreak, I was briefly with a group whose leader called himself the Governor. He organised fights, unarmed. The ring was made with walkers. Of course, it was rigged. The walkers had no teeth, I think, but still."

"That's..."

"Barbaric. Disgusting. I know. The people who looked out for me got us out of there as fast as they could. Wasn't fast enough. Back to your question... there are stories about the circus back in ancient Roman times or whatever, something like that. About how people used to be thrown to the lions for entertainment and punishment and so on, I think. Cross the wrestling with the circus." Dillan looked at Rambo in horror.

"They want to feed you to the dead?" He asked. Rambo shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, fingering the scar there.

"It is one of the possible punishments in store for me if I am caught, yes."

"Do I want to know what the other punishments are?"

"Anyone who I remotely care about will be subject to that punishment first and I'll have to watch. Then, some of them will be turned into undead freaks and they will be the ones to rip my guts open and eat me. Another option is every bone in my hands and feet broken. There's always starvation. The favourite option is probably the mauling though."

"The... mauling?"

"The name says it all." Rambo stood up and headed over to the door, her machete hanging by her side as she peered out through the door, opened just a crack. Knowing that they were probably so close put her on edge, the thought that they could grab her at any moment. Dillan stood up and crossed over to her, stretching his neck in an attempt to make it less stiff. Rambo could distinctly hear a few clicks come from it, which she found vaguely impressive in a disgusting way. She didn't like the sound of bones clicking, though the feeling of clicked fingers was most satisfying.

"So where you planning on taking us?" He asked, still stretching. Rambo shrugged.

"Somewhere away from here. Don't know exactly where, usually I try not to stay in one place for more than a couple of nights, so if you thought you were gonna find a place to settle down, I can honestly say you're wrong."

"Great. Just great. Ah... can we at least get twenty minutes breaks every now and then?" Rambo looked up at Dillan, her blue-green eyes meeting with his light brown ones.

"Well, seems I adopted an idiot. Perfect. Just perfect." She grabbed her stuff and headed out the door, bag swung over one shoulder. He watched her in alarm and indignation.

"Hey! You did not adopt me, and I am not an idiot!"

* * *

 _ **The group**_

Rick watched as Carl and Daryl approached, a stranger with them. After what had happened with the last camp and Daryl's daughter, he didn't know if he wanted to trust the woman. He walked forward, purpose in his stride, hand hovering next to the gun he had in a holster at his side – his trusted python – ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Some people were born to this world of death and walking dead, but others were made. Unfortunately, it was a world that you were either able to survive, capable of acting in extremes, or you died. So Rick was always ready to act under extreme circumstances. He had to be. To keep Carl and Judith safe, to keep his people safe. This woman was a stranger. She was not one of his.

"Who is this?" He asked Daryl. Carl didn't say anything, just stood there with a bag flung over his shoulders. Daryl looked at him briefly, then at the woman, finally at Rick.

"Anne. She's Rambo's mom."

"And you brought her here? You know how much danger you could be putting us all in?" The rage started to boil up in Rick. If this woman was related to Evelyn – the little bitch – then she almost certainly couldn't be trusted. Evelyn had to get that from somewhere, and she certainly didn't get it from Daryl. That only left one person it could have come from. Her mom.

"Anne isn't like that."

"Well, last you knew." Anne said, seeming to try to be helpful. Daryl looked completely unimpressed, not even bothering to look at her. Rick didn't miss this.

"What Rambo did was a one off thing. She didn't get that behaviour from either of us. More likely it came from me, it was something that Merle woulda done. Anne's different. She isn't a threat." Rick's eyes darted from Daryl to Carl.

"What do you think of her?" He asked. Carl shifted under the weight of the pack slightly and thought for a moment.

"She doesn't seem that bad. I think she's alright." In Carl's eyes was something else. Rick could see it. Carl didn't think that Anne was capable of doing anything to hurt the group, didn't seem to have the same level of intelligence that Evelyn had. The only danger she would pose would be if she did something so stupid that it put the group at risk. Rick sighed and turned to Anne, looking at the mud-caked woman.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked. She frowned slightly.

"Walkers are...?"

"The undead." Carl provided helpfully. Anne smiled in thanks and nodded.

"A couple. Not many. Usually I just hide, killing them only when completely necessary. I haven't exactly been in a situation where I could fight them. I haven't really been with anyone else. Just me, pretty much. There were a couple of others, but they ended up leaving."

'More like dying.' Rick thought, thinking that Anne had gone a bit loopy, judging by how simple she was seeming.

"How many people have you killed?"

"None!" Anne looked horrified at the thought.

"Why?"

"Start disrespecting laws and the world will go to hell. It will fall into chaos and turmoil." Daryl was silently kicking himself, or silently raging about Anne's answer. She didn't understand this world. That much was obvious, but it was a question of why. She seemed so innocent in her beliefs, when she had seen what this world was, what it did. Rick thought for a moment. There didn't seem to be any danger in keeping her around, if only to try and get some sense into her.

"You're in charge of her. She gets killed, that's on you. If she turns out to be like her daughter, that's also on you." Rick muttered to Daryl before turning and walking off, Carl next to him. Behind them he could hear Daryl and Anne talking in quiet voices.

"So you're calling my daughter 'Rambo'? You do realise she's not a guy, right?"

"She stopped being your daughter when you left her on her own seven years ago." Came Daryl's muttered reply.

"I was the one who gave birth to her, carried her around for about nine months. Looked after her for seven years on my own. And where were you?"

"Your stupid sister told me to leave."

"Jenna was not stupid, and she would never do that! She knew how I felt about you!"

"Right. That's probably exactly why she told me to leave." Daryl sounded like he wanted the conversation to end. How were these two ever compatible? They were so different, Daryl was a tough son of a bitch, while Anne... she seemed more like she could be broken by one wrong word. But she was still headstrong. They didn't seem in the least bit able to get along.

"Evie is my daughter. You were never there for her."

"And you did such a great job looking after her when you married that idiot who ended up giving her more scars than I have." There was silence for a moment, and Rick decided that Daryl had won that round before tuning out the conversation. This was a private matter. He knew what those were like, he'd had plenty of those private conversations with Lori about Carl and Judith, and they'd always been there for each other. Things between Daryl and Anne were plenty more complicated.

"How much food did you get?" He asked Carl.

"Not much, but enough that we should be alright for another couple of days, enough to give us time to find more food to pad it out. In some ways we're lucky so many left or died in that fire. Means we've got more food per person." Rick knew that Carl felt bad about saying that, he also felt bad, but it was the harsh reality of this world. Everyone had to do or say something extreme at least once in their life. That was the way this new world worked.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Start of the outbreak_**

 _There were people everywhere, screaming, crying, searching for their loved ones. Anne could imagine it being similar to how things were after WWII with the concentration camps and the POW camps and the like, everyone looking for someone – anyone – they knew. They just wanted closure. Evelyn was sitting on the ground next to where Anne was standing, keeping an eye out for someone they knew. She looked like she was lost in a world of her own, her face void of any expression, her arm clasped to her chest. Chances were it was hurting more than it had been, and they had left all the painkillers they had back in the van._

 _"Do you think Aunt Jenna got out?" The young girl suddenly asked. Anne looked down at her in surprise. Evelyn still had a blank look on her face, as though there were nothing in the world, only whatever it was that she was seeing. It confused Anne as to why she was asking about her aunt, they hadn't seen Jenna since Anne had married Vincent, so it had well and truly been a while._

 _"I..." She was going to say something reassuring, but then it occurred to her that truth might do more good than another lie, "I don't know, honey. I don't know."_

 _"If she did, do you think she'll meet up with us? Is there a way for us to get in touch with her?" At that moment a message played over a nearby radio in someone's car. A man with dark hair was sitting there, turning the volume up so they could hear better. Anne knelt down and looked Evelyn in the eye._

 _"Stay here. I'll be right back."_

 _"I couldn't move even if I wanted to, Mom." Her voice was completely flat still, deadpan. Anne wasn't certain what was going on. Nothing really taught a parent how to look after their kid when the world started falling apart, how to react if their child suffered a major loss, how the child would react, how to help the child recover. She stood up and moved closer to the vehicle, listening to the broadcast. It was still just out of range, but Anne could form a rough idea of what was being said. Atlanta was going to be bombed, and it didn't matter if there were still people in the city. Not long after the broadcast, a couple of planes flew overhead and Anne watched with horror as pillars of fire rose from the city, the dull sounds of explosions echoing over the crowds. She covered her mouth and stepped backwards, unable to believe what she was seeing. She turned around as someone slipped their hand into hers, looking down at Evelyn. The girl still had no emotion on her face, but there were tears dampening her cheeks._

 _"It won't kill the weird things. If anything it will make more." She whispered._

 _"How can you possibly know that, Evie? Maybe we'll be able to go home after this. We'll live a proper life, return to Vincent, we'll apologise for leaving and then everything will return to how it was. We'll be fine." She smiled hopefully, trying hard to keep the tears from her voice as she looked back at the now partially destroyed city. Evelyn shook her head._

 _"I would never go back to that stupid guy you wanted me to call 'dad', even if we could. But there's only one way to kill those... things... I tried to kill that man by stabbing him, that way I was taught to by Nelly, but I couldn't kill him. The head. It has to be the head. Not the heart, not the liver, not setting them on fire. The head. Bash in their head," She looked up at her mom, "What about Aunt Jenna? Do you think she's...?"_

 _"I don't want to even think about that, hun. Please, you shouldn't think about it either. It's going to be OK. We're all going to be OK, and we'll all live happily ever after. We'll find your dad and he'll look after us. We'll be one happy family. All this will be over and we can pretend it never happened." Anne wanted to believe it so much that she managed to fool herself into believing that it was true. But Evelyn didn't. Evelyn didn't believe a single word of it._

* * *

 _ **Now**_

 _ **The group**_

The rest of the day was spent clearing the debris from around the place and doing their best to fix up the barn so that they could stay there for a while. Most of them were exhausted from the amount of moving around they had been doing, and the barn was quiet, secluded, and had a reasonable range of sight. Abraham, Eugene, Rick, Michonne, and Sacha were moving old beams out of the way, while Daryl, Rosita, Glenn, and Maggie were trying to move them into place up in the roof to patch it up again. Where the beams were no longer able to be used, bits of rope were strung up and tarpaulins from the safety cache were arranged over them. Carl, Enid, Carol, Judith, and anyone else with not much else to do were off finding food and fire wood, anything to keep them warm or fed. Anne had to stay in sight of Daryl at all times, and she hardly appreciated it. She wasn't a child, she didn't need babysitting! But at the same time, it was nice to be with Daryl again, even if she wasn't exactly with him. She darted a look up at him, balancing carefully in the rafters. By the look on his face, it seemed like he knew they'd have to move soon. So why didn't they just leave now?

"Is there anything for me to do?" Anne called up to them, wanting to do something. She wasn't too certain if she had gotten that off Evelyn or Evelyn had gotten it off her.

"Yeah, help clear debris." Daryl called back down. It stung her a little, the way he talked without even seeming to remember what used to be between them, but she knew he did. How could he forget? She certainly couldn't, still felt ridiculously strongly about him. She'd never stopped. But had he moved on? Her eyes drifted over to the woman with short hair – Carol. They seemed to be rather close, but Anne wasn't exactly certain how close. She sighed and nodded, beginning to help with the clean up. She didn't notice Daryl dart a glance at her, didn't know what he was thinking. He wasn't certain how he felt about her anymore, not after what Evelyn told him, but there was still a part of him that felt like he had to at least do something to keep Anne around, to keep her safe. Now this may not be exactly for himself, but also for his daughter. She still loved her mom, or at least, that's what she thought. Anne coming back complicated things so much, and he could see that it stressed Rick out no end. Rick had a lot to deal with. He was their leader, he was meant to keep them safe. Daryl could tell he was wondering how he was supposed to do that

"Stop daydreaming and give me a hand, would you?" Glenn snapped, struggling with quite a large and heavy looking plank of wood. Daryl moved over and helped to manoeuvre it into position. Glenn was crouched down, positioning the bottom of the wood and holding it still while Maggie deftly tied some rope around the beam to keep in in place. Daryl held it in place at the top while Rosita did the same there. He stood up and headed over to Glenn whole Rosita and Maggie finished up and Glenn struggled to stand. When he managed, a dizzy spell overwhelmed him and Daryl grabbed him just as he was about to fall off the roof.

"You good?" Daryl asked as he let go. Glenn nodded.

"Are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Anne coming back a year after Evelyn leaving. That would be enough to throw anyone out. Your ex showing up after a daughter you never knew about left again."

"They make their own choices. I'm good." Daryl turned to go back to work, but Glenn stopped him.

"Just because you think you can do this on your own doesn't mean you have to and doesn't mean you should."

"The only thing making this hard is Rick. Rambo and Anne are completely different people. What Rambo did was a load of bull shit. Anne isn't like that."

"She wasn't when you knew her. That doesn't mean she hasn't changed." Maggie said, stepping into the conversation. Daryl looked down at her, unimpressed.

"Doesn't mean she has either."

"This world changes people. No one is the same person as they used to be." Glenn muttered quietly. Daryl grunted and glared at him, kneeling down and grabbing the next plank of wood that was being passed up.

"If ya say so, pizza boy." Maggie smiled slightly and Glenn shook his head, giving Daryl a hand with the plank of wood. Rosita didn't say anything in the whole conversation, lost in her own thoughts.

* * *

 _ **Evelyn**_

"How much further do we have to go?" Dillan complained, making Rambo roll her eyes in exasperation. She was regretting her decision to let him go with her, the amount he wanted to rest, to relax. He looked like he was reasonably fit, but in truth he was softer than Barbie would have been if she was a real person. Rambo stopped and looked around, trying to decide how to answer his question. She glanced up at the sun, which could just be seen through the gaps between the trees. From its positioning she could get a rough idea of what season it was, and what time it was. It was just heading into winter, so the days were getting shorter, the nights colder. She hoped that there wouldn't be snow. Snow was a bitch to hide tracks in, it was also horrible, cold, not nice to be out in at all. Not that she couldn't handle the cold, about the warmest item of clothing she had was a thin black, long-sleeved shirt that was falling to pieces. Every time she went to a safety cache she checked for a jacket and left a note asking for a warm jacket, but so far none had shown up.

"We'll probably manage a few more miles before the sun sets. I'd like to get as far as we can, try and find some shelter. For that you're gonna have to pick the pace up a bit."

"Seriously? I'm going as fast as I can!"

"Then you're gonna be left behind, coz I ain't waiting for ya."

"You're one harsh task master." Dillan muttered. Rambo looked around at him in confusion, her head slightly to one side as she reached up and started splitting off a strand of hair to braid.

"What d'you mean?"

"You're... um..." He wasn't sure how to explain it in words she would understand. She didn't seem to have a great education, and if she did, then she was a damn good actor. He thought for a moment as they started walking again.

"You're very pushy. Want people to obey you. Want things your way."

"HA! Dude, I just don't want to get killed coz of some idiot kid who walked too slow."

"You're such a nice person. I'm surprised you're out here on you're own." He teased. Rambo didn't reply, falling into a dark mood, not wanting to talk, lost in her own thoughts. She started absently rubbing her right arm as she walked. Dillan felt like he had said something wrong, felt bad.

"I'm... sorry, I didn't mean that. You do know I was joking, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know." She muttered, glancing around and giving him a small smile, but it was very obviously faked. She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, the strip of fabric on her wrist fluttering gently in the breeze. Dillan shook his head slightly, wondering when she was going to tell him what had happened to her in the past. What had happened to her that was so bad? He knew she had betrayed someone, and now they were trying to kill her, but other than that she didn't say much. Her parents were dead, but she didn't say when they died, or how, she didn't say where she came from, didn't say how her right arm came to have such a big scar. She was easy to read, but it was hard to actually tell what was going on in her head. With Rambo it was easy to tell her emotions, she was crap at hiding them, but when it came to her as a person she was like the best locked room in the whole universe.

"So, do you know where exactly we're going?"

"Well, I was thinking of going to a small farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, maybe settle down with a few cows, a couple of pigs perhaps. A small garden where I can grow vegetables. Wait the rest of this goddamned apocalypse out."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not." Dillan admitted. Rambo smiled, though he couldn't see it.

"Of course, I'd be there all on my own. Got no one to share it with. Unless you want to actually grow some muscle and get used to some good old hard work? I suppose you're as good company as I'll ever get." Dillan looked at her back in amazement as he stepped over a fallen log, half hidden by leaves.

"OK, now I can tell that you're joking."

"I don't actually know. The farm sounds nice. But not sure if the farm life would suit me." She admitted. Dillan grinned.

"Rambo the farmer just doesn't sound right, not with the kind of personality the guy in the movies had."

"I wouldn't know. Never seen them."

"Then how'd you get the name?"

"Dad came up with it, thought it suited me. I hated it." Dillan frowned slightly.

"Then why did you keep it?"

"Three reasons. One thing it grew on me, two, my real name doesn't exactly suit me." There was silence for a moment and Dillan could see Rambo was trying to listen for any signs of danger, keeping an eye out for something to shoot for food. Like squirrel, though in all honesty Dillan didn't overly like squirrel. It was food, though, and food was hard to come by at the best of times. Thinking of food made him just that little bit hungrier, his stomach grumbling uncomfortably.

"What's the third reason?" He asked after he figured Rambo had forgotten or something along those lines. She hadn't forgotten, simply didn't want to explain that one.

"What do you mean?" She asked, playing dumb.

"You said there were three reasons. You only gave two."

"Eh, I guess that the third really isn't that important then."

"I want to know. Doesn't matter if it isn't that important." Dillan pushed gently, trying to get her to open up more. She thought for another moment, and Dillan was starting to wonder if she was going to answer at all or if he had pushed a bit far.

"It serves as a reminder." Dillan frowned at the answer, not quite understanding.

"A reminder of what?"

"Everything. And yet, at the same time, nothing."

"Never pictured you as one of those people who love riddles."

"I don't. There's nothing that drives me more insane. I hate not knowing the answer to something."

"And yet you're willing to torture others by not giving them a straight answer?" He asked, not sure if he was teasing or not. He wanted to get to know this girl, but she seemed to be the queen of putting up walls to protect herself. In truth, he did find her slightly attractive, felt drawn in by her eyes, and the mystery surrounding her just drew him in even more. He doubted she felt the same about him; there was nothing special about him, he had no chance at being with someone like her, but that didn't mean he couldn't get to know her, decide if he had real feelings for her or not.

"Come now, if I told you everything, you'd get bored too quickly. And we have a long walk ahead of us." Rambo called back to him in a slightly sing-song voice, sounding altogether too cheerful. Dillan snorted in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. Rambo really was all over the place.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, sorry it's a bit late. Been a crazy week. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Rambo and Dillan stumbled to a halt when it was too dark to continue on safely, Rambo dumping her pack down on the ground in a random location where the ground looked reasonably flat and without too many roots or other objects to make the ground uncomfortable. Dillan sat down next to the bag with relief spread across his face. Rambo didn't sit down immediately, looking around to make sure that it was safe enough where they were situated. She pulled off her headband and ran a hand through her hair before tying it up in one long braid, using the band to tie it up again.

"You can take the bedroll. I'm used to the ground, while you're pretty much as delicate as a princess."

"I've been living this lifestyle for the same amount of time as you have, I hope you know." Dillan said, but he didn't object to getting the bedroll. He was tired, his feet hurt, and all he wanted was a good night's sleep.

"When was the last time you slept in a proper bed?" Rambo countered. Dillan thought for a moment.

"A few months ago?"

"You see, last time I slept in a proper bed was over a year ago, and before that it was a few months, and before that it was around three years or something like that. You're a princess."

"Technically I'm a guy, so I'd be a prince."

"In stories, princes are usually depicted as being made of harder stock than princesses. You ain't made of harder stock."

"So what, you'd be a prince while I'd be a princess? Bit of a reversal of roles, wouldn't you say?" Dillan raised his eyebrows as Rambo crouched down to detach the bedroll from the top of her pack and hand it over to him.

"Nah, I'd be the street urchin who steals all your money and then maybe, just for good measure, slits your throat."

"Lovely." Dillan took the bedroll and spread it out nearby, smiling his crooked smile. Rambo just grabbed the sleeping bag and unrolled it, slipping into it as soon as she could, trying to escape the cold. She didn't kick off her shoes, though in all reality they were horribly uncomfortable in the sleeping bag. She wanted to be ready in case she had to run, and she'd hate to have to run barefoot.

"What were your parents like?"

"Huh? Where'd that come from?" She looked at Dillan in shock. He just shrugged, sitting on the bedroll instead of lying on it, looking at her.

"Well, you say you lost them, but you never say how or what they were like."

"I've only known you a day. You can't expect me to tell you about them straight away." She shook her head in disbelief, having difficulty with how many questions Dillan asked about her, the way she thought, her past, her parents, everything. She didn't just answer questions, that wasn't how she worked. It had taken her dad ages to figure that out, but he had in the end. One piece of information you don't often tell people, and in return she would give an answer and explain something about herself. Dillan simply hadn't been going about things the right way. For a moment there was silence and Rambo thought that there was a chance Dillan had gone to sleep, though the fact that he wasn't snoring should have been a give away that he was still wide awake.

"When did you lose them?" He asked quietly. Rambo shook her head, reluctant to answer, but knowing if she didn't then Dillan wouldn't stop with the questions.

"I lost Mom at the start of the outbreak. My dad I lost fairly recently."

"It must be hard for you."

"I hardly knew them." She didn't like admitting it, even to herself, but she didn't. She'd been too young to know her mom all that well, and even if she had... nothing could prepare anyone for what her mom had done to her. And considering she left her dad well and truly less than a year after meeting him, there was hardly enough time to even get to know him. She didn't even notice it as she started rubbing the back of her neck.

"They're your parents, you grew up with them, of course you knew them."

"You're talking as though this world is a perfect one. But it's not. You asked me when I lost them. I answered your question. Now get some sleep. We're carrying on in the morning." She snuggled down deeper into her sleeping bag, indicating that the conversation was over. There was no fire, no added warmth, and she hoped like mad that Dillan could handle the cold. Dillan fell into his own thoughts, thinking about what Rambo had just said about not knowing her parents very well. It made him doubt how well he had known his own mom. He felt like he did, he was sure he did, they only had each other after the outbreak started. But the more he thought on it, the more he realised he hardly knew her, the more questions he got, questions he wanted answers to, but he knew would never be answered.

"Night Rambo." He muttered, lying down with his back to her. There was a mumbled reply which he assumed was something similar. Rambo was right. If they were carrying on in the morning, then Dillan should get some sleep. That was if he was able to.

* * *

Something out in the darkness made a noise, the sound of a twig snapping, bringing Rambo out of a light sleep, putting her on high alert. She slowly made her way out of her sleeping bag and made her way over to Dillan as quietly as she could, shaking him gently awake.

"Wha – " He slurred drowsily before Rambo hissed at him, finger held up to her lips to silence him. He frowned, not quite understanding why he had to be silent, but did as he was told. She grabbed her pack and slipped a gun out of it, sliding it into his hands, praying that he knew how to use it if he needed to. She picked up her machete from next to her and held it ready to use. Shivers ran up her spine as something howled out into the night, terrified, and then came running out of nowhere towards her. Rambo knelt down as the dog came to a halt before her, a relieved smile on her face.

"Hey there, it's OK." She crooned, holding her hand out for the dog to sniff. Dillan watched her warily, not really trusting the dog.

"Rambo... you don't know what kind of personality that thing has."

"Oh, come on. He's not a thing, he's a dog." She glanced back at him as she scratched the dog under the chin, it's tongue lolling out.

"How do you know it's a 'he'?"

"Coz he got balls." Rambo said, rather plainly, as though it was the most obvious thing of all time. Dillan smacked his forehead, acting as though he should have known that.

"Of course! Because the first thing you think when seeing a dog out here is 'Oooo, a doggy! Wonder what gender it is?'" He shook his head and Rambo grinned. The dog looked around suddenly and started whining, running to stand next to Dillan. Rambo stood up, watching where the dog had been looking, a frown on her face. She spun her machete around in her hand a couple of times, then got into a better position for balance to use it. At that moment a small group of walkers came lurching towards them. Rambo pulled a face, disgusted by the smell that suddenly overwhelmed them.

"Whatever you do, Dillan, do not fire that gun unless you really have to." She muttered before throwing herself at the walkers, smoothly chopping their heads off in fluid motions. Dillan watched her, alarmed and confused.

"What? Then how am I supposed to kill them?"

"Use the gun as a club, you idiot!" She called back.

"Oh, of course... silly me."

* * *

"I don't understand how you can do that pretty much all by yourself." Dillan mumbled as they walked away from the pile of walkers they killed. Rambo shrugged.

"Practice."

"Yeah, but you're... what? Nineteen?" He asked. Rambo had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She shook her head, shaking the blood from her machete.

"Sixteen, I think. How long has this all been going on for?" She asked, motioning to the bodies they were leaving piled up in a heap. Dillan thought for a moment.

"Around seven years."

"Then, yep. Sixteen."

"You don't look sixteen, and you don't act it."

"Yeah, this world isn't what it used to be. What about you? How old are ya?"

"Around eighteen." He shrugged. Rambo raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, sorry, but you look younger than that." She muttered, looking down at the dog (who was following them as they walked away, clearly it had some brains), its tongue lolling out to the side, giving it a very goofy look, its tail wagging furiously behind it. Dillan followed her gaze and shook his head.

"So what are we gonna call him?"

"Dunno."

"Well... He's quite a happy looking guy. So how about it? Happy?" Rambo looked at him, her face pretty much blank, maybe a hint unimpressed.

"Never letting you name something ever again." She said. Dillan grinned.

"So you're letting me name the dog?" He asked. Rambo rolled her eyes and looked back the way they were headed.

"Don't make me regret this. Oh wait, too late." The dog trotted forward to walk next to her. She dropped her hand down to run it down his spine. After a good clean the dog could look quite nice, and he'd clearly been someone's pet at some point, else he'd have tried to rip their throats out. She smiled. As much as she hated to admit it, Happy was a good name for the dog. Happy skipped ahead of them, chomping at insects as he went. Rambo always did have a soft spot for dogs, only reason she hadn't gotten one when she was younger was because of her step-dad (the bastard). Now she did, though she didn't know for how long. Everything she cared about had a habit of vanishing after a while. Though, maybe not this time. She jumped slightly to get her pack balanced on her back more comfortably before speeding up slightly to keep up with the dog. She wanted to get as far away from the walkers as she could before the following night.

* * *

 ** _The Group_**

Daryl looked out at the sky, thinking. Anne watched him, wondering if she should go and talk to him or not. She wanted to talk to him, more than anything, but wasn't sure if it was a wise idea or not. She took a deep breath and walked over to him, sitting down next to him. He didn't even glance over at her.

"What happened with Evie?" She asked after a moment. Daryl shrugged, not really seeming all that phased, but also not seeming too keen on answering.

"You can ask her yourself when I find her."

"I want to hear it from you, and there is no guarantee that you will find her."

"If you had been there for her you wouldn't need to be told."

"You really have been taking lessons from her. She was a champion at turning things around to make them someone else's fault." Anne muttered. Daryl scowled.

"Wonder who she got that from."

"It wasn't me. She developed that all on her own. Probably because she wanted me to leave my husband."

"Can't imagine why that'd be."

"Daryl, I don't need to hear this all from you. I know I wasn't the best mom. But I dealt with what I was given. And I was given a daughter with your temper and my speed to judge. I needed help. You weren't there, so I had to find someone else. It just turned out that the someone else was a mad man." Anne started playing with strands of grass, braiding them together then tearing them apart. After a moment Daryl spoke up again.

"She used to do stuff like that." He said, pointing to what Anne was doing. She smiled.

"She didn't do it very often when she was younger."

"Rambo isn't the same kid you knew. Had to make her own way. Developed a lot of nervous ticks. Rubbing the back of her neck, fiddling with the fabric she keeps tied around her wrist. That sort of stuff." Anne frowned slightly.

"Why did she develop nervous ticks? She was always brilliant at hiding her fear before the world went to hell."

"Her mom left her. She travelled with people she didn't know, ended up joining a group who ended up wanting to kill her once they found out she was related to Merle. Probably almost been killed a shit load of times." Anne looked at Daryl, looking slightly upset, then turned her whole body to face him better.

"What happened when you met her?" She asked. Daryl didn't look around, just pulled out his old rag and started wiping down his crossbow.

"She killed a couple of walkers that'd been following me and Glenn. Has a machete she ain't bad at using. She figured out who I was pretty quick. Said that you had a photo of me, didn't seem too happy that she'd actually found me. Was even less happy when I took her machete off her to make her come with us." Anne actually laughed slightly.

"Always knew you were a big softy." She teased. Daryl grunted, not looking around.

"We didn't have an easy relationship." He muttered, and Anne nodded.

"Evie isn't very easy to have a good relationship with. She's always had a hard time making friends, forming relationships. Got worse after I got married." Both of them looked around as someone called out to them, Glenn standing not too far away. He was waving his arms, motioning for them to return to the main group. Daryl frowned.

"Something's wrong." He muttered, getting to his feet then helping Anne up.

"No kidding, genius." She replied, earning a slight glare from Daryl. In truth, he didn't mind all that much. Not from Anne anyway. He just had to make a show of not being in the least bit impressed.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Start of the outbreak_**

 _Once everything had calmed down a bit, Anne slipped back to the van. She left Evelyn with the man with dark hair and the woman and child he had been with, explaining the situation. At first he'd been reluctant to let her go on her own, but it was obvious he didn't want to leave the woman and child to fend for themselves. As it was, he insisted that she take a gun with her – not that she knew how to use one. She was a teacher, not a cop. But that didn't matter. Any extra bit of protection was much appreciated, and she needed to get painkillers for her daughter. When she left, Evelyn was only just holding onto consciousness. The pain was starting to get too great, and it had to be bad if she wasn't looking too good. Evelyn wasn't one for showing pain. She hid it until she couldn't handle it anymore. And that usually took a while. The young girl hadn't been too pleased with her mom leaving her in the care of three complete strangers, and neither had Anne been. But it wasn't possible for Evelyn to go with her in that condition, and the woman had seemed nice enough. The young boy seemed to be quite curious, and seemed to be rather upset about something. He was interested in Evelyn, wanted to know how she got so hurt. Neither Evelyn nor Anne had said anything to explain it properly, they certainly didn't tell the truth about it. Or not the full truth. Evelyn muttered something about being trampled in the panic, but nothing more than that. Now Anne was walking down the deserted road, wondering if she could figure out a way to drive the van through, even though she knew that wasn't possible. She clamped her hand over her mouth as something grabbed her ankle and pulled her down, trying to stop herself from making too much noise. As soon as she realised what was happening she lashed out, kicking repetitively at the dead woman who was trying desperately to bite her. Tears had escaped onto her face when she was finally able to escape, and she wrapped her arms around herself to try and comfort herself._

 _"Almost there, you're almost there." She muttered, forcing herself onwards. By now Anne could see her vehicle and broke into a jog, keeping her eyes peeled for danger. All that mattered was getting the painkillers and a few other supplies. That was all. Then she would go back to Evie. Preferably sooner rather than later._

* * *

 ** _Now_**

 ** _Evelyn_**

They stopped for breakfast a while later, eating what little food Rambo head left. It wasn't much, but she figured it might keep them going for a little while longer. As it was she ended up giving Dillan more of the food, he seemed to need it more than her.

"You haven't gone hungry very often, have you?" She asked, watching him as he ate the few remaining nuts. He shook his head.

"The group Mom and I were with had a couple of hunters. A few gardeners. We had sources of food. Probably why we were found and attacked." He shrugged.

"Probably. The end of the world brings out the worst in people. Everyone wants food, shelter, safety. And because of it, no one gets it. Pretty simple really." Rambo shrugged, standing up and grabbing her machete out of the ground next to her. Happy looked up at her, ears perked, tongue lolling out.

"Where are you going?" Dillan asked.

"To look for food. Doubt I'll find much, but there might be a squirrel or something nearby. Just stay here and keep that gun close. You'll be fine." She said, then walked off. For a moment Happy looked like he wanted to follow her, even stood up and took a couple of steps after her, but Rambo turned around and held her hand out to stop him. After a moment the dog turned around and lay down next to Dillan, seeming to be in a huff. Dillan reached down a hand and stroked the dog's messy fur, scratching him behind the ear.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours at most." Rambo called back as she walked away.

"Ah... sooner than that, please?" Dillan asked.

"Grow some Balls." The girl retaliated, not turning around.

"She's just a big meanie, isn't she?" Dillan asked the dog, scratching him behind the ears with both hands, then rubbing the dog's belly when he rolled over onto his back, tail sweeping the leaves around it.

A squirrel scampered up a tree not too far from Rambo's position. She eyed it up, taking her head band off and untying it, bending down to grab a stone. It wasn't the best sling, but it'd work. She'd at least be able to daze the squirrel, which would give her enough time to kill it with her machete. She placed the stone in her make-shift sling and spun it around, releasing it at just the right time and hitting the squirrel, growling when the stone didn't do its job properly and the squirrel simply ran away. It was more important than ever to find food, now that there were three mouths to feed. As she stepped forward again, still on the look out for food, something came crashing out from between the trees and tackled her to the ground, taking her by surprise. The woman who had tackled her held her down, pinned by the throat, a scowl on her face.

"You little bitch, watch where you're going." The woman snapped. Rambo didn't respond, simply edged her hand towards her fallen machete. Unfortunately, the woman noticed the movement and moved her foot around to pin Rambo's hand.

"Get the hell off me." Rambo growled.

"Not until you tell me what you're doing here, Evelyn."

"I don't answer to you, Vicky."

"No, you answered to my brother. I go out on a mission, come back, and what do I find? The place in ruins, the boss, Sara, and KC all dead... and when I ask why, everyone says that it was you and those fucking idiots from Alexandria."

"KC deserved what he got. And worse." Rambo spat, getting Vicky in the eye. The blonde haired woman drew back her hand and clenched it into a fist, driving it forward to punch Rambo in the face. Rambo just smirked and caught the fist before it smashed into her face and smashed her forehead against Vicky's nose, sending the woman sprawling backwards, clutching her nose. Rambo grabbed her machete and stood up, stepping forward and kicking the woman once just under the chin, sending Vicky once more falling backwards.

"You have your brother to thank for that."

"I told him that it was a dumb idea to teach you how to fight." Vicky growled after spitting blood out of her mouth, then launched to her feet, throwing herself at Rambo. The younger girl adjusted her hand on her machete and swung it against Vicky's arm, feeling it connect with bone. A scream of pain rang out and Rambo glanced around, worried that someone might have heard that. She heard the sound of running footsteps draw nearer and stepped towards Vicky.

"You're lucky that you have friends here, or you'd be with your brother right now." She hissed before turning and running off, making sure she didn't run towards Dillan. She'd have to do a loop and make sure no one found him and Happy, or they'd be in as much trouble as she was.

* * *

"Well, looks like you get your wish after all." Rambo said as she arrived back where Dillan and Happy were waiting, making them both look up. Dillan frowned.

"What d'you mean?"

"I'm back before two hours are up. And we need to get moving."

"Why?" Dillan asked as he stood up and started packing the few things he'd taken out up again. Rambo looked over at him as she flung her bag onto her back.

"They found me." She said, not seeming overly worried, but not seeming quite her normal relaxed self. Dillan frowned, glancing at Happy who seemed completely oblivious to what was going on.

"How close are they?" He asked.

"Eh, close enough to have had me pinned down for a couple of minutes while I worked out how to escape. Hence why my machete is bloodied." She said, holding out the weapon to show him. Dillan felt sick and had to look away for a bit, struggling not to throw up. He'd never really had to see blood, he'd been lucky. Even with the undead around the place, even with all the dangers, he'd manager to live a reasonably sheltered life. Rambo looked around at him.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Mmhm." Dillan nodded, standing up, but carefully not looking at the bloodied blade. Rambo raised her eyebrows and slipped the machete into its case, which she attached to her waist.

"We really do need to get moving. Right now." She said.

"Then why are we standing around talking?" Dillan asked, sounding slightly faint, but determined not to show it. Rambo smiled slightly, then started walking, Happy bounding forwards to walk next to her. She reached down a hand and stroked his head. Dillan followed after, taking up the rear, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of life. He didn't understand how Rambo could be so calm about this, but she was probably used to it by now. He certainly wasn't.

* * *

 _ **The Group**_

"We need to move." Rick said, looking at the faces of the people collected around him. Glenn and Maggie were holding hands, Judith sitting on her brother's lap, Carol and Anne sitting either side of Daryl, Michonne leaning against a wall.

"Why?" Sacha asked.

"A group of people has been spotted in the area, heavily armed." Rick replied, looking at the woman. Murmurs swept through the group, but they quickly quieted down when Rick raised his hands for silence.

"How big?" Anne asked, earning a quick look from Daryl.

"Bigger than us."

"Oh yeah, real helpful." Rick glared at her.

"Look, you want to stay? Go ahead. But staying here means you die. Your choice. Everyone, pack up." Everyone got up and went about packing what few things they had taken out, food, weapons, blankets... everything, before they started walking off. Anne didn't really have anything to pack up, so she just waiting around for everyone else to be ready, watching Judith with slight sadness in her eyes. She could remember when Evelyn was that old, could remember how happy the young girl seemed.

"Mom! Look!" The little Evelyn that Anne could see in her mind was smiling from ear to ear as she pointed to the butterfly that flew around in front of her. Her laughter rang in Anne's ears before fading away, leaving the emptiness again. What had happened to make Evelyn so closed off? Like Anne really needed to ask. She knew perfectly well that it was her marriage. Evelyn had never really supported it, she never wanted a dad, not even her real one. And Anne's husband was a poor substitute.

"You ready?" Daryl asked, his crossbow flung over one shoulder as he walked over to her. She nodded.

"Always."

They'd been walking for a while, probably a few hours. Judith was getting a piggy back from Rick, and Carl wasn't too far behind them, walking with Enid. No one was really talking, trying to stay as quiet as they could to avoid being found by whoever it was that was nearby. If it was someone who wasn't friendly, then it was pretty much a case of them being as good as dead. Maybe it was because of how quiet it was, or maybe it was plain dumb luck, but Carl heard someone yelling in the distance. He stopped and looked around, trying to pinpoint where the shout had come from. He could have sworn he knew that voice...

"What is it?" Enid asked him.

"Thought I heard..." He shook his head, suddenly realising how stupid it was, "Doesn't matter. It was probably nothing." Then he noticed that Daryl had also stopped, so had Anne. The look in Anne's eyes said it all. It was who Carl thought it was, probably. A second shout sealed it. Without saying anything, Carl ran off in the direction he thought the shouting was coming from.

"Carl!" Daryl yelled after him, reaching out to try and stop him, but failing miserably. Carl vaguely heard him swear, but he was too busy trying to reach the person who had yelled to actually pay attention. There was no doubt in his mind that it had been Rambo who'd yelled out like that. No one, not even Daryl, sounded quite like that when yelling abuse at people. He wasn't looking where he was going and didn't notice the walker, didn't notice how close he was to the edge of the cliff, didn't even know there was a ravine nearby. The walker grabbed his ankle, sending him sprawling over the edge of the cliff, taking the walker down with him. He landed in water, the wind being knocked out of him as he hit it, hard, still fighting to keep the walker off him. The current separated the two, but it also prevented Carl from being able to reach the surface to breathe. It wasn't long before his sight began to blur and he started trying to breathe despite being no where near air.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Evelyn**_

Somewhere behind them, someone shot a gun. Rambo ducked, narrowly avoiding running into the branch of a tree. Dillan was just in front of her, the perks of having longer legs, and Happy was running along beside them, tongue lolling out. There was no way they were going to outrun these people, no way in hell. Rambo stopped running and Dillan turned to look at her.

"What are you doing?!" He asked, his voice possibly a little too loud.

"Get climbing." Rambo snapped, pointing at the tree nearest to him. He looked confused.

"What?"

"For fucks sake, just do it!" This time it was her turn to yell at him, probably way too loudly.

"I can't climb!"

"You're gonna have to!" She growled, "Get up, then I'll get Happy up there. Do it. Now. We don't have time for this shit." Dillan looked at the tree and sighed, muttering something about how he was going to break his neck, then started climbing. Once he was reasonably far up the tree he turned around and Rambo crouched down on her hands and knees.

"Happy!" Dillan called and the dog looked up, barking, "Come on! Come here!" Dillan clapped his hands, but the dog didn't budge.

"For crying out loud, you stupid mutt! Up!" Rambo snapped and the dog run up, jumping onto her back, then up into the tree, getting hauled the rest of the way up by Dillan. Then he looked down, his eyes growing wide.

"Rambo!" He warned, giving her just enough time to get up and look around at the approaching League members.

"Fuck." Rambo growled, turning and starting to run again, she didn't have a lot of choice. If she started climbing now they'd catch Dillan and Happy, as well as her. If they saw her and followed her, at least they'd be safe and she'd be able to duck back and join up with them again. If they were smart, and if she could actually get away from them. Next thing she knew, though, she was being pinned to the ground. The man pinning her down chuckled in her ear.

"Looks like you bit off more than you can chew." He whispered in her ear.

"Get the hell of me, you fucking idiot!" Rambo yelled, managing to roll over on top of him, punching him twice in the face before she drew her machete and brought it down, lopping off his hand when he put it out to try and stop the blow. He screamed in pain as blood spurted out, covering both his face and Rambo's. But she didn't stop there. She then brought it down on his head, struggling to pull it out as she got to her feet, trying to get away. There was nothing she could do, though, and instead of getting free, she got caught by someone else, forced once more to her knees.

"That wasn't very nice of you." The voice was vaguely familiar and Rambo looked up, her eyes full of hatred. The man talking to her now had dark, greying hair and cold eyes, emotionless. Of all the fuckwits to survive the start off the apocalypse, why did it have to be this guy? He didn't even smile, and it didn't seem like he recognised her. Rambo spat at his feet, trying to stand up, but she couldn't. Just got hit on the side of her head for her pains. The man crouched down in front of her, taking her chin in his hands and turning it so he could look at her better.

"You seem familiar..." He muttered. Shit. Not good. Rambo pulled away from him, turned to look at him, then head butted him in the nose. He stumbled backwards, blood cascading from his nose in waterfalls. She grinned.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not a nice person." She spat. The man looked at her, standing up then kicking her in the chin, sending her falling backwards.

"Little shit." He muttered. Rambo just laughed, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth. She'd bitten her tongue quite hard. Not hard enough to lose it, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Been called worse." She said, almost conversationally.

"Oh, I bet you have. There's no reason to keep you alive, you know." He sounded equally conversational.

"There never was, mate. Even ask my dumb step daddy. He always thought I just got in the way. To be fair, I did make him almost lose his hand when I stabbed it with a steak knife, then pulled it out at a bad angle," The man's eyes widened as he finally placed why Rambo looked so familiar, "Hi, fuckwit." She greeted.

"You!" He growled, stepping forward and grabbing Rambo by the collar of her shirt, hauling her unceremoniously to her feet, "Where's my wife?" He asked.

"Oh, come now Vincent... you really think that someone like her would have stuck around someone like me? You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Vincent pulled back his fist, then punched Rambo hard in the gut, leaving her gasping for air. But she just laughed, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, seeing her beg for mercy. None of it. Instead she just straightened up and smirked.

"Well, you've actually gotten some backbone. Never thought I'd see the day." She dodged another blow and swiped out with her right leg, sending Vincent sprawling forwards. She was then grabbed by one of his cronies and held in place while Vincent stood up and turned to face her. She didn't need to be told what was going to happen next. She'd been through it so many times as a kid. He stepped forward and started raining punches on her, waiting for her face to be covered in blood before letting her fall to the ground, gasping for air, trying to dull the pain that was starting to overwhelm her. Then a gunshot rang out and the person who had been holding Rambo fell down, a hole in his head. Vincent looked around, trying to pinpoint the shooter, but gave up and simply motioned for his two remaining men to retreat, gunshots still ringing out.

"Yeah, you better run." Rambo muttered as she stumbled to her feet, walking over and retrieving her machete from the ground, then looking up as Dillan and Happy ran over.

"You look dreadful." Dillan said, looking rather shocked.

"I've had worse," She muttered in response, kneeling down and scratching Happy behind the ears, "Thanks, by the way."

"Wow, Rambo... thanking me? I think the world's ending."

"That happened ages ago," She sighed, "Let's just get out of here." Rambo stood up and started walking away, Dillan not too far behind her.

"He knew you... how?" He asked as they walked.

"My mom's husband," Rambo didn't want to talk about it, "There's a river not too far away. I'd quite like to get cleaned up, if that's alright with you."

"Ah... yeah, that's fine... I thought you said your dad was dead?"

"Call him my dad again and so help me, I'll gut you and feed your remains to the walkers." Rambo snapped, turning around and holding the machete to Dillan's throat. He stepped back slightly.

"Ah... OK..."

"I never said he was my dad," She put her machete away, "I said he was my mom's husband. There's a difference. Mom married him before the world went to shit. Left him the day the world went to shit."

"So your dad died before all this?" Dillan thought he was getting to understand Rambo better, but he couldn't have been much more wrong. Rambo wasn't about to say that though, simply falling into silence.

* * *

They'd been walking for a while when they reached the ravine and the river that Rambo had mentioned, heading along a goat track to get to the bottom so she could wash her face. By now she would have known if she'd been hurt more that simple bruises and cuts. Dillan didn't say anything, staying perfectly silent after the conversation that they'd had. He figured he'd learnt enough about Rambo for one day. Her life had been a lot more complicated than his, clearly. Then they spotted someone on the other side of the ravine falling down, a walker on top of them. Rambo froze.

"Carl?" She muttered.

"What did you say?" Dillan asked, frowning.

"Could have sworn that was..." She headed over to the side of the ravine, watching as a hat surfaced without an owner, "Shit! That hat... I know that hat." She stripped off her shirt, standing in her bra, then took off her boots, making sure her machete was secure at her side, moving to take a running jump off the side of the track.

"Woah woah woah! What are you doing?" Dillan asked, catching her around the waist and preventing her from diving in, trying hard not to concentrate on all the scars riddling the girl's body.

"I'm going to help my friend!" She snapped back.

"You just got beaten up by your step-dad, and you have no idea how deep that water is. Not to mention that you have no clue what's under that water, or how strong the current is. Think about this for one second, Rambo!"

"I'm a Dixon. We aren't known for our ability to think." Then she pushed past Dillan and dove off the edge, Happy barking wildly as she fell into the water below. She surfaced a couple of seconds later, shaking the water out of her eyes as she scanned the water for Carl, spotting him not too far away, now without the walker nearby. Great, another thing to keep an eye out for. She swam over to him, fighting the current a little, then dove beneath the water and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him to the surface. She supported him under the armpits as she found her way over to a patch of gravel nearby, grabbing Carl's hat as it drifted past, then hauled him out of the water and away from its edge. She knelt down and checked that he was still breathing.

"Come on, Carl. Come on... breathe for me..." She murmured, "Just fucking breathe!" Carl coughed, water spilling out of his mouth and Rambo smiled, laughing happily, then turned around and did a thumbs up sign for the benefit of Dillan. That way he'd know that both she and Carl were OK. Then she rolled Carl onto his side so he wouldn't simply choke on the water he was coughing up. In the distance she could hear people calling his name and knew that his dad, and her own, would be there shortly. She had to go. But she didn't want to. This was the first time she had seen any of her old friends for ages. They didn't know she was alright, she didn't know who of the old group were alright. She looked down at the tattered piece of cloth on her wrist and took it off, tying it instead around Carl's wrist. At least they'd now know she was alright. Then she stood up and headed back into the water, swimming off to find another piece of land on the other side so she could regroup with Dillan and Happy. Carl'd be fine now. His friends and family were almost there.

* * *

 _ **The group**_

They got there just as Carl was waking up, Rick collapsing on the gravel next to his son, making sure he was OK. Even his hat was on the ground near him. Daryl frowned, noticing that this was not a position someone would just collapse in if they'd falling off a cliff into water. He walked around, keeping an eye out for whoever he presumed had hauled Carl out of the water, Anne watching him closely.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"You ever seen someone collapse in the recovery position?" Daryl asked, and Anne shook her head.

"Not really, no."

"Then where's whoever helped Carl?" Anne looked around and Daryl frowned. The only sign of footprints was going back into the water. Why would they have swum away? Why would they have left Carl on his own? Especially with the danger of walkers. It was pretty much a death sentence for him.

"Evelyn." Carl said, then coughed, more water coming out. Daryl looked around at him, taken slightly by surprise. Then his eyes fell on the strip of cloth tied to his wrist. There was only one person he knew who had that fabric on them pretty much all the time. Rambo.

"Evie?" Anne asked, her voice shaking a little. Daryl looked back at the water, his mind racing. Why would she have just left Carl like that? The girl he knew wouldn't have done that, not unless she knew someone was coming to help. Therefore she must have heard them, which meant she couldn't have gotten far. But that also meant that she still wanted to stay away from them. She was still in danger.

"Evie!" Anne called out, slightly frantic. Daryl held up his hand to stop her and she glared at him.

"Don't waste your breath." He grunted.

"You're the one who claims your her dad! You should be looking for her, not standing around doing nothing!"

"She doesn't want to be found. If she did she wouldn't have left Carl," Glenn pointed out, interrupting Daryl before he could make the situation worse, "At least you know she's alive."

"She knows we're nearby. If she wants to find us, she will." Maggie said. Anne paused for a moment, clearly wanting to argue about this more, but instead she just nodded and Daryl looked over to the other side of the ravine. There was nowhere she could have walked down nearby, not that he could see anyway, which meant she must have dived from a pretty decent height.

"Why doesn't she want to find us?" Anne sounded positively miserable.

"Shit happens," Came Daryl gruff reply, "We should get moving." Then be turned and stalked away from the water edge, heading over to Carl and helping him up. Rick, for once, had the wisdom not to say anything.

* * *

 _ **Evelyn**_

"I still don't know why you did it." Dillan muttered, his back to Rambo while she got changed. The girl snorted, then tapped him on the back, telling him it was safe to turn around. Now that all the blood was off her face they could see the extent of the damage. One of her eyes had a lovely bruise and was almost completely swollen shut, there was another bruise on her cheek, and her lip was cut open, along with one of her eyebrows. She looked like a complete mess.

"I knew him from the last group I was with." She explained.

"The group that's trying to kill you?" That made no sense at all. Rambo laughed.

"Hell no! The group I was with at a similar time so the League could kinda destroy them. It's complicated. He's from the group that's the reason why the League wants me dead."

"Ah... what?"

"Like I said, it's complicated," She looked away, thinking as she absently braided a strand of her wet hair, "Carl was kinda the first friend I had there, first proper friend I'd made since I was a kid. Everyone else was just a means to an end. Not him. He was... different. Actually seemed to care. He didn't think it was his job to be nice to me, didn't see me as someone he needed to protect... Not someone he could use. Saw me as another person, not just a child," She looked back at Dillan, "And because of me his dad almost got killed." Dillan didn't say anything. Rambo knew what kind of thing he would be thinking. Pretty much just panicking about what he could say. Rambo wasn't exactly the most open book, and there she was talking about her past.

"Let's just get moving. It's only a matter of time before Vincent realises that it was just you and a dog that were shooting at him and his cronies, and we still ain't far enough away for my liking," She started walking, but Dillan didn't move, "Let's go," She beckoned, then glared at him when he still didn't budge, "Stop being an idiot and get your ass moving."

"Don't you want to be with your friends?" Dillan asked, a little uncertain.

"If I wanted to be with them, then I would be. Besides, it's not just about what I want. It's about what they want." Then she started walking, not caring about whether or not Dillan was following her, Happy coming up beside her and licking her hand affectionately. She scratched him behind the ears without even thinking about it. She did want to be with her friends. But she couldn't. Not until she was finished dealing with the League. Not until she knew that Rick had forgiven her, not until she knew she wasn't a liability.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Start of the outbreak**_

 _Evelyn was still sitting with the people who had agreed to watch her when Anne got back with the painkillers, watching as the boy and his friend absently played games under the watchful eyes of their mothers. Anne wasn't too certain when they'd gotten there, but it didn't really matter. The more people watching her daughter, the better. It was a relief to see them all alright._

 _"No problems?" The dark haired guy asked when she approached them._

 _"No, thank God. How about with her? She can be a bit of a handful." Anne nodded to her daughter._

 _"Hardly moved a muscle since you left." She nodded and headed over to Evelyn, crouching down in front of her. The girl blinked a couple of times, then looked at Anne, her head leaning to one side._

 _"Any sign of Aunt Jenna?" She asked in a rather small voice. Why was she asking about Jenna so much? Anne shook her head._

 _"No, sorry hun. How are you feeling?"_

 _"Tired. Hungry," She paused for a moment, then shrugged, "Angry." Behind Anne, the dark haired man and the mother of the boy shared looks. Even Anne was slightly surprised. Nothing about being afraid... only being angry._

 _"What?"_

 _"I'm angry." Evelyn repeated with more vigour, her eyes flashing dangerously._

 _"Why are you angry?" Anne asked._

 _"Because the world is falling to bits and making you sad, making you want to go running back to the bastard."_

 _"Evie!"_

 _"He is a bastard. And a cockroach. He'll turn up someday, and he'll want you back. He'll hurt you, he'll hurt me... This won't make him better. The world falling to fucking pieces doesn't bring out the best in people... it won't bring out the best in him... It'll bring out the fucking worst."_

 _"Evelyn Rona Dixon! Mind your language! And it might not be all that bad, this won't necessarily bring out the worst in people, and it certainly doesn't mean that if we find him he'll return to what he did before."_

 _"The world's going to hell, Mom. You really want to look for the best in people and worry about my language now?" Anne didn't reply. Evelyn was too smart for a nine year old kid, she noticed things more, things that no one would want a kid of her age to notice. Slowly Evelyn got to her feet, her face twisting only slightly in pain as she moved away from her mom. Anne stood up and watched as the girl went and sat away from everyone else, though still within sight._

 _"Think I see what you meant by a 'bit of a handful'." The man said._

 _"She's been through a lot."_

 _"So have you, from the sounds of things." That was from the woman he was with. Anne didn't take her eyes off Evelyn._

 _"Not as much as she has."_

* * *

 _ **Evelyn**_

It was a long time before either of them spoke again, a couple of days, in fact. It was starting to get a bit spooky, the silence between the travellers. Dillan was the one who broke the silence.

"We should start thinking about finding somewhere to sleep."

"Been thinking for a while. There should be a house somewhere nearish by."

"How do you know?"

"I've travelled quite a lot."

"Obviously, but... no one can know all the things you do. Not with the amount of certainty you have."

"It's called acting. You should try it some time. Great fun." Dillan sighed, then stopped walking, glaring at Rambo's back and crossing his arms. He wanted answers. He wanted her to trust him.

"Stop." He commanded, and to his surprise she actually did, slowly turning and facing him. It was obvious she knew what was coming, and she didn't like it. Not one bit. Neither of them moved, and Happy looked slightly confused. He knew something was up. He looked from Rambo to Dillan and back.

"I want answers."

"I know."

"Then give them to me! I'm with you, so my life is in just as much danger as yours, and your actions, your past... it effects me, too!" He snapped.

"What do you want to know?" Dillan stared at her, silent for a moment, not believing what he'd just heard, "Look, you better hurry up and ask your questions, before I change my mind."

"Ah... Right... What's your real name?" Rambo snorted, looking away for a moment, then turning her back on him and starting to walk away, "Hey! You said you'd answer!"

"I never said that."

"Well you implied it!"

"Keep up with me and I'll think about answering your questions. We need to get to the house before it gets dark. I don't fancy a repeat of what happened last time." The previous night they'd been attacked by walkers, Dillan almost getting bitten, Happy demonstrating his true colours when it came to his ability to rip legs off rotting carcasses. Dillan sighed and ran after Rambo, eventually catching up with her before slowing down to her pace.

"So, what is your name? Rambo Dixon... Sounds interesting, but you told me that Rambo wasn't your real name." Seemed like a life time ago they'd been in the abandoned town, Rambo opening a door on Dillan's face and giving him one heck of a bleeding nose.

"Evelyn. You can tell why I prefer 'Rambo'. More... me."

"Evelyn Dixon... Nice," Rambo/Evelyn snorted, "So what happened between you and your step-dad? Seemed like you have... quite a history."

"You could say that. Mom met him when I was something like five or six, not entirely sure. Think I was seven when she married him. I never liked him, he only pretended to like me until after him and Mom were married. Then he kinda... Shit happened. It's nothing, really."

"Your scars say otherwise." Rambo didn't reply, not looking at him while she resisted the urge to finger the scar on the back of her neck. Suddenly Dillan felt like he'd crossed the line, and he clenched his hands into fists, looking down at Happy, who was once again sweetly oblivious to the tension between Dillan and Rambo. Slowly he looked back at Rambo, taking her by the shoulder and turning her around so she had to look at him.

"Look, I'm sorry I brought that up. I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't. But I didn't expect anything else. Don't worry about the scars. I gave him a few good 'uns too." She turned away, clearly showing that she wanted the conversation to end.

"Well... what about the group you were with? The one with the boy you saved? What were they like?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You don't give a lot of answers."

"Yeah, shouldn't that tell you that I don't like talking about it?" Dillan raised an eyebrow at her, "Fine. Last answer you're getting from me today. They were good people who took me in quite easily. They trusted people too quickly. So they were easy to infiltrate. They took pity on me, which was annoying. They saw me as this little girl who needed protecting. They're also the reason one of the few friends I had got killed. Don't blame them, though. In a round about kind of way it was actually my fault, I guess. There. Happy, now? You know more about me. Bonding time over." She walked slightly faster and Happy bounced after her, living up to his name far too well. Dillan didn't say anything, just started thinking about what she had said. That was probably all he was going to get from her for several days, considering how closed off she was.

* * *

They got to the house a couple of hours after it had gotten dark, stumbling inside. Dillan almost fell asleep as soon as he was inside, but Rambo didn't, and stopped him from falling asleep too. They had to make sure this place was safe. Who knew if there were walkers or other people here, and there might be some tinned food still around the place. Anything else would be well and truly past the edible stage. Dillan wasn't much help when they scouted out the area, his eyelids too heavy to actually see anything abnormal in the surrounding area. Rambo, on the other hand, was hyper vigilant, keeping her machete in her hand as she stalked the halls, silently opening doors and scoping out the rooms. There were thick layers of dust covering everything in the house. As Rambo walked she left footprints in it, which she wasn't too happy about, but there wasn't much she could do. She glanced down at Happy, who was walking beside her. He seemed to be good when it came to detecting others in the area. Come to think of it, it was a bit strange that he'd trusted Dillan and Rambo when he first saw them. And he wasn't in too bad condition. Which suggested that he hadn't been alone recently.

"We clear?" Dillan called out and Rambo scowled.

"He's an idiot, isn't he, Hap?" She asked the dog, slipping the machete back into its sheath and heading back to Dillan, "As far as I can tell. Didn't see anyone, didn't see any walkers. Doesn't mean you can just call out, though. We don't know what's outside."

"Ah... sorry."

"Sorry ain't gonna mean shit if something comes and kills us in our sleep. Get some rest. I'll take first watch." Dillan didn't argue, just walked over to the couch and flopped down on it, sending clouds of dust billowing into the air. Rambo stepped away, pulling a face at the musty smell and how easily Dillan could just fall asleep on that thing. Then she went and started looking through thee cupboards for something to eat, doubting that she'd actually find anything. It was strange enough there was a house out here. A cabin in the woods. Perfect place for a horror story. She grabbed the one remaining tin of corned beef, slightly surprised and dubious about why it was still there, then grabbed a chair and moved it over to the window in the living room, placing the tin down on the windowsill. Dillan would need something to eat when he woke up. Of all the people she could have been landed with, she got landed with the one who had actually succeeded in living a sheltered life. Happy flopped down at her feet, resting his head on his front paws as he looked up to her with his big, puppy eyes. Rambo smiled down at him, then opened the tin, chucking down some of the corned beef for him, which he wolfed down without a second thought, then started looking at her adoringly, tail wagging.

"We gotta save some for lazy bones." Rambo whispered to him, but she gave him a bit more before putting the tin out of his reach. Her mind started wandering as Happy slowly fell asleep, the sound off his snores and his occasional twitching at her feet helping to keep Rambo awake. She kept her eyes peeled for any sign of movement outside, but she was thinking about her friends. They were close. Closer than she'd realised. Who knew if they were actually looking for her though. Did it make any difference? She sighed, looking around at Dillan. Maybe it was about time she found them. When it came to keeping this guy alive, she'd need all the help she could get. Though, he did save her life. Vincent certainly wouldn't have just let her walk away. Had he been part of the League? Certainly seemed like something he'd have done. Slightly surprising that Rambo had never seen him around their base, though. She needed advice. Advice from someone who she actually felt comfortable about talking to when it came to Vincent and her past. Very few people came to mind, and all the people who did were back with Rick's group. Daryl was the main one. He was actually old enough to know what to do, he'd been beat by his dad, he knew Rambo's past... or some of it. Knew about Vincent, though he didn't know the guy's name. He was the obvious choice. But getting his advice would mean finding a way back to the group, and actually getting on Rick's good side. Which was probably easier said than done. Rambo was the reason he'd gotten shot and almost killed. Just thinking about Rick and that wound made her think about that nurse. She wondered what happened to him, what he was doing... was he even alive? There'd be no answers to her questions until she actually joined back up with the group. And she would join back up with the group, at least briefly so she could get rid of Dillan. She was safer on her own.

* * *

Rambo shook Dillan awake a bit after the moon had reached its zenith, though it did take a bit for him to actually wake up. He was more tired than either of them had realised, and it was a wonderful that he hadn't started snoring.

"Your turn to take watch." Rambo said, moving over to sit down by the wall.

"Don't you want to take the couch?"

"I'm fine where I am, thanks."

"You sure? It more comfortable than it looks."

"Which is exactly why I don't want to take the couch. I want to be able to wake up if something goes wrong and you need your ass saving again."

"You haven't exactly saved my ass at all..."

"Ah... I told you to get up the tree, I drew the people away... the walkers, I dealt to them. I've been more use to you than you've been to me. Let me to sleep where I want." She turned away from him, leaning against the wall as she closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

"Why is it that you still don't really trust me?" Dillan asked. Rambo scowled, looking back at him grumpily.

"Because anyone I trust either turns on me, or I turn on them, or maybe, just for a change, they end up dying. That's what happens in this shit hole. Therefore, I made it a personal rule to not trust people. Don't trust people, don't get attached. You do that, you're as good as dead."

"That doesn't always happen. Haven't you notice the decline in the numbers of moaners recently?" Rambo frowned. He had a point. Human bodies would decompose after a while... their brains would just... rot away. Maybe someday they'd pretty much all be gone, and life could start again. It wouldn't be the same as it used to be, it wouldn't be able to return to how it was. But... to think that someday they might stop having to run wasn't one she'd had.

"When it all finishes, you're going to need someone to trust," Dillan pointed out, "Why don't you..." He paused and looked away. Rambo frowned, wondering if she was just imagining that he'd changed colour slightly. In the gloom, it was rather hard to tell.

"Why don't I what?" She asked, hating that she actually wanted to know.

"Why don't you let me be the person you trust?" It was barely more than a whisper, and it surprised Rambo more than she wanted to admit. For a moment she didn't say anything, thinking over her answer, which wasn't something that happened very often.

"It's not necessarily you I don't trust. And it isn't as easy as flicking a switch and deciding to trust someone. It never was, never will be. That's life for you," She said it surprisingly gently, "You don't have to like it. You just have to accept it." Dillan didn't reply and Rambo just returned to trying to get to sleep, though after the conversation that had just occurred, she assumed that it would be a little hard to. Her mind was far too active.

* * *

 _ **Vincent**_

He sat there, watching the small group nearby. There weren't too many of them. Maximum of fifteen, not that he was really concentrating on counting the numbers. He was too busy watching the woman with the blonde hair. Anne. Vincent watched with calculating eyes. Could it be simple coincidence that she and her daughter were in the same area, or had they managed to stick together after all? His eyes flicked to the man Anne was watching, a guy with darker hair and a crossbow near him. There was a resemblance between him and the little punk. Chances of him being Evelyn's dad were pretty high. Such a sweet family reunion that must have been.

"Sir – "

"Quiet. If they've managed to survive this long, then they can't be that stupid. Keep your guard up, and keep the noise down."

"Sir, we've lost the tracks of the girl and her friends. She's managed to lose us."

"Clearly little Evie is smarter than what she used to be. But that's alright," A dark smile found its way onto Vincent's face and he tapped his finger on his knee, thinking about his next move, "We might just have a way to draw her to us."

"Sir?" He looked around at his lackey, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"We have access to the one person who she ever cared about," He pointed down to the group, "Her mother."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Evelyn**_

Dillan shook Rambo just as the light touched the horizon. She didn't look happy about it, but she got up anyway. Happy trotted over to her and she gave him a quick pat before heading over to the door and opening it, not saying anything. Dillan shook his head.

"Where are you going?"

"We start moving now we can hopefully get there before dark." Was the brisk reply. He frowned.

"Where is 'there'?" He asked. Rambo turndown to him, her face unreadable.

"The group I was telling you about."

"You mean the group you didn't want to go back to?"

"Yeah, that's the one," She rubbed the back of her neck, "Had time to think things over. With Vincent so close it's probably safer if we are with them. Safety in numbers and all that." She smiled and looked away, scoffing at what she'd just said. This just made Dillan frown even more.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"Nothing. You wouldn't understand. Now come on. We have a lot of ground to cover, and then some." She held her hand down to help Dillan up, and he took it, then they headed out the door, Happy skipping along beside them. He sighed as they walked, watching Rambo while she kept a look out for food or danger. Or both.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" He asked.

"What?"

"You didn't want to join up with your friends... what changed your mind?" Rambo paused, trying to finger the piece of fabric around her wrist before remembering that she'd given it to Carl. She looked around at Dillan.

"I told you, safety in numbers."

"That's not all of it," Dillan growled, "I'm getting sick of you not trusting me, Rambo," She looked away, "This whole trust thing goes both ways, you know. How am I supposed to trust you if you don't trust me?" For a moment he thought he'd won, but then Rambo replied in a voice almost too quiet for him to hear it.

"You're not. Which is why we have to go back to them. You'll be safer with them than with me. You and Happy both." She sounded almost... sad? Dillan looked at her in amazed shock.

"What?"

"Enough chit chat. We'll attract less attention if we don't talk."

* * *

It took a couple of days to actually get back to a place where Rambo could pick up a trail that might give a rough idea of where the group was, and since it was near enough to a cache she decided to go pay it a visit. While she went about uncovering it, Dillan kept an eye out for danger.

"Hey, found a nice pretty hairband for you, Dill." She taunted, holding up a pink, flowery hairband. Dillan looked down at it dubiously.

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Well, then... let me give you a hair cut. It's starting to get in your eyes."

"You aren't coming anywhere near me with a pointy object." Rambo just smirked and went back to searching the cache, shoving a couple of tins of food into her pack. Then she frowned, pausing a moment before reaching out and picking up a piece of paper with her name scrawled on it. Slowly she stood up, reading it carefully, feeling her face drain of colour.

"I need to get going." She forced the words out, suddenly feeling cold.

"Why? What's up?" Dillan was still sweetly oblivious to what was wrong. Rambo looked around at him, her eyes reflecting her fear. Dillan frowned, wondering what could actually make her show she was scared. She just shook her head.

"Go. Take Happy. Get back to the house. Take some food from the cache and just... try to survive. And whatever you do, don't follow me." She started walking away, but Dillan reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

"Rambo, what's going on?" She looked away, down at the ground.

"He found them. The bastard found them." Dillan frowned, confused, and she silently held out the note to him. He took it without saying anything, reading it slightly quicker than Rambo had. His face set with grim determination, then passed it back and turned to the cache.

"Well, in that case... you're gonna need all the help you can get."

"It's too dangerous!" Rambo snapped, "I'm not putting your life on the line for a bunch of people you don't even know."

"But you know them," Dillan checked the ammo for the gun he'd grabbed, snapping it shut and looking at Rambo expectantly, "And if you know them, then that's enough for me."

"You don't even know exactly my relationship with the people he has – " She tried objecting.

"I don't need to. You know why?" Rambo shook her head, "Because I trust you."

"Dillan – "

"We're wasting time talking about this." Dillan raised an eyebrow and Rambo smirked, then shook her head.

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, but I'm the best idiot out there."

"No," She shook her head, "That prize goes to someone else." She looked at Happy affectionately as she said this.

* * *

 _ **The group**_

None of them saw it coming. They hardly realised it as they were surrounded by a bunch of people, a group significantly larger than their own. Daryl's crossbow went up, but something was pressed against the back of his head. He didn't need telling what it was. He scowled while Anne shook slightly with fear, and slowly lowered the crossbow.

"Looks like the girl didn't inherit her stupidity from him." A man said and Anne covered her mouth to stifle a gasp as someone wrenched the crossbow from Daryl's grasp. Other people were taking the weapons off everyone else in the group and Daryl looked at Anne in mild confusion.

"Vincent?" She asked after a moment.

"Good to see you, too, sweet heart." The man who'd spoken said to her, stepping forward and taking her chin in his hand, smirking.

"Get the hell away from her." Daryl spat, moving to hurt the man, but someone pulled him back and shook their head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." They muttered.

"What are you doing here?" Anne was asking her husband.

"Trying to find your daughter. She's been quite naughty. Hurt my boss, killed one of my men... well, more than one, if I'm to be honest. And then she gave us the slip. But, she rather does need to be disciplined. Always one of our shortcomings as parents... We were never strict enough with her."

"Where's your son?" Carl asked, and Daryl looked around at him, confused. This guy had a son? This was news to him. Vincent scowled, leaving Anne and stepping towards Carl, who had Enid on one side of him. Judith was over with her dad, looking rather afraid, though there was still a steely look in her eyes.

"Now, that's a good question... I should imagine he's in the same place as her brother," He said, pointing to a woman with one arm bandaged up, "You see, Anne's daughter is a bit of a murderer. Killed Vicky's big brother, nice guy called August. And she was the reason my son got ripped to pieces by the dead." There was anger in his eyes, venom in his voice. Anne covered her mouth in shock. No one wanted to know that their kid was a killer.

"It wasn't Rambo who killed the fuck wit," Daryl growled, having Vincent and Vicky turn their eyes on him, "I was the one who killed August. And he deserved worse than he got, trust me on that one."

"It wasn't her who killed your son, either." Glenn spoke up. Vincent turned his eyes to him.

"Oh?"

"We opened the walker pen. We left it open." Maggie snarled, pulling against the person holding her in place. Vincent scowled, walking over to her.

"You see... none of this is going to save her," He muttered darkly, "Because she is still a traitor."

"She's my daughter." Anne spat, murder in her eyes. Daryl smiled slightly. Protective Anne wasn't someone you wanted to deal with.

"She is a traitor to the League, and as such, she shall be punished," Vicky growled, stepping towards Anne and looking down at her, "Since you were never one of us, her being your flesh and blood holds no sway in this situation. Evelyn is going to die, and by my hand. As is my right as the leader of the League," She turned and looked at Daryl, "Just as it is my right as August's only living relative to avenge is death by taking your life." She said, rather coldly. Daryl scowled at her.

"Go ahead and try it."

"Oh, I will. After you have lured out the little murderer, then I will have you killed together."

"Vincent..." Anne looked pleadingly at the man, "Please... please stop this. I know you can, you have influence here, a blind man can see it. Evie never did anything to hurt you – "

"You forgotten about the time she stabbed me?" He asked, holding up a scarred hand. Daryl snorted.

"From what I hear, you deserved it."

"Daryl, stand down." Rick ordered, trying to calm the situation down. Daryl didn't say anything, just glared at Vincent. Vicky looked at him.

"Are you their leader?" She asked, seeming perfectly calm. Rick nodded.

"Yes."

"Well, then. You will also be put to death. We can't have any resistance, now can we?" She smiled as Carl pulled against the person holding him back and Judith took in a sharp breath, gripping her dad's hand tighter. This situation was getting out of hand very quickly.

"Let's just talk this over – "

"No. The time for talking it over," Vicky looked over at Vincent, "Have them tied up. Wire, not rope. Check them for knives. Guns. Anything. Make sure they are put somewhere they can't get loose from their bonds. We need to keep them here until Evelyn shows up." Vincent nodded.

"Ma'am," Someone piped up, making Vicky look over at them, "Will we offer her a deal, as planned?"

"That depends on her." Was the stern reply.

"If we do, and I'm not saying we will... if we do, I'd suggest the boy or the girl. She cares for them." The man pointed at Carl, then Enid. Vicky smiled.

"Thank you for the information. Now, get on with it." She turned away, heading off to find a comfortable seat and wait for Evelyn to show up.

* * *

 _ **Evelyn**_

"So... we have a plan, right?" Dillan asked, suddenly unsure about the whole thing. How were they supposed to help Rambo's friends when there were... maybe... twelve times the rescue party's numbers? Two people weren't very many for a job this big. Well, two people and a dog.

"Hang on, you expected me to come up with a plan?" Rambo looked at him, vaguely surprised, "I make things up as I go along."

"Oh yeah, great... That's gonna end so well, isn't it?" Dillan sighed and eyed up the scene below, "I'm guessing the ones tied up are your friends."

"That's very astute or you."

"Did you just use a big word on me?" He mock gasped.

"Shut up," Rambo frowned, "Man I wish Felix was here..."

"Who?"

"An old friend of mine. One of the longest survivors of the first group I was in. Then he got killed by another one of the group last year, who I then killed."

"You really haven't had it easy, have you?" Dillan watched as Rambo chewed her lower lip, carefully not looking at him. Then sheepishly nodded.

"I'm going to hand myself over."

"What?!" Dillan looked at Rambo in alarm as she pinned him back against a tree, covering his mouth with her hand, glaring at him. He'd said that far too loudly. Thankfully no one seemed to have heard him.

"I'm not a tactician. I'm going to hand myself over. Can't see any other way to rescue my friends."

"You do that, you're a good as dead." Dillan hissed once Rambo released him.

"Better me than them."

"You're just a kid!"

"I stopped being a kid when this whole thing started. You're more of a kid than me. I'm doing this, Dillan. I'm doing this, and you can't stop me," She looked round at her captured friends, "Just make sure you have your gun on standby and for crying out loud, don't miss. Or hit me." Then she walked off, Dillan watching her go. The one thing he was thankful for was that she didn't leave her machete behind. He sighed.

"This isn't going to end well, Happy. Not well at all."


	10. Chapter 10

_**The group**_

Daryl looked up at the sound of footsteps coming from the surrounding forest, a little nervous about what he saw. She hadn't changed much from what he could tell, except the cut on her arm that she got last time they saw each other had healed and was now just a nasty scar, and one of the scraps of cloth was missing. That was still around Carl's wrist for safe keeping. He could hear Anne take a sharp breath when she spotted Rambo, could feel her body tense. The girl didn't even look at them, just kept her eyes trained on Vicky and Vincent.

"You miss me so much you kidnap my friends to get me back? I'm touched." She called out. Daryl scowled. Some people never changed. Vincent smirked.

"I see you got my letter."

"Yep. You're lucky I can read, else that would have been a waste of energy. Then I'd go hunting you down and slaughter you all, soon as I found out you'd killed these guys. But, here I am. No use dwelling on 'what if's and 'maybe's." Someone walked up behind her and slipped an arm around her waist briefly, pulling her machete out of it's sheath. Rambo smiled back at them sarcastically, then looked back at her step-dad, hatred in her eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists by her sides, and Daryl knew what that meant. She was scared. There was only one other time he could really remember her standing quite this way, and it was last year when she was betraying the League for them. He glanced over at Rick, who wasn't looking happy to see her there. Judith didn't really seem to know what was going on, she hadn't had much to do with Rambo when she was still with the group. But Carl was looking a bit eager, like he was expecting her to do something that could get them out of this. A part of Daryl thought that she was, but another part was quite suspicious that she had no plan and was making it up as she went. That was how she normally did things, and it wasn't always the best way.

"Now you have me, let them go." Rambo said, motioning to them. Daryl frowned. She didn't even seem to care anymore, her voice was flat and emotionless. But when dealing with someone like Vincent, that was probably the best idea.

"Can't do that," Vicky said. A small smirk on her face, "You see, when they were trying to get you off the hook, some very interesting information came to light." Rambo scowled, only now glaring down at them. She shook her head, as though she was annoyed, disappointed, then her eyes landed on Anne and she visibly paled.

"Evie..." Anne muttered, only just loud enough for Rambo to hear her. The girl looked back around to Vincent, now even more angry.

"You better not have laid a single of your filthy, fat fingers on her, you prick." She snapped.

"You threatening me?"

"No, a threat is where I say if you touch her again, I swear I will rip your balls off and shove them down your throat. Although that's also a promise, not just a threat."

"That's if you live long enough." Vicky said in a dark, dangerous voice that promised someone dying in the near future. Rambo looked over at her and the scowl deepened.

"If I don't then I'ma gonna come back and fucking haunt your ass." She snapped. A few people around the camp chuckled, but they quickly went quite when Vicky's scathing gaze passed over them, once again landing on Rambo.

"You haven't changed a bit, you insolent brat." She snapped back.

"Sorry, I'm lacking in an education. What does 'insolent' mean?" Vicky's glared deepened "Use small words in future." Daryl smiled. That was the Rambo he remembered. Massive temper, not really using her brain. Vincent stood up abruptly and marched towards Rambo, reaching out and grabbing her hair, pulling her head backwards. Rambo cried out in pain and Daryl tried to get up, but someone turned a gun on him while another person shoved him hard to the ground again. Rambo didn't look at him, just lashed out, kicking Vincent's knee and sending him falling to the ground. She didn't stop, following up with a knee to the face. He fell backwards, clutching his nose, then glared up at her, grabbing a gun from its holster and pointing it at her face while he stood up. Evelyn didn't even flinch.

"You aren't gonna shoot me. That's never the punishment for traitors. At the very least your first going to make me watch while all my friends are turned into walkers, and then you're going to feed me to them."

"That's for people who aren't such a pain in the neck."

"I'm sorry, what? I'm a pain in your neck? Who's the one who just tried to pull my hair from my head and snap my neck at the same time? Honey, I thought I was the stupid one." Vincent growled and pressed the gun right against Rambo's forehead. She just leaned in towards it, a glint in her eye that Daryl hadn't seen before. Anne was starting to cry beside him.

"You don't have to balls to do it." Rambo spat at Vincent.

"Wanna bet?"

"Stand down." Vicky ordered.

"But – "

"I said stand down! It's not your right to kill her, it's mine as leader. Your right is to kill whoever opened the gate and let the dead eat your son. I kill Evelyn, I kill her father, and we toss a coin for who gets their leader."

"You said that if I came alone that you would let them go. You promised!" Rambo snarled, turning her glare on Vicky.

"Never said anything. Wrote it. I never mean what I write if I can avoid it."

"You bitch."

"I try." She waved a hand and someone took Rambo by her arms, forcing them behind her back, then shoving her to the ground. Rambo glanced around at Daryl with a confused look in her eye, but it vanished in seconds and a small smirk slipped once again onto her face.

"Hope you're vaccinated." She muttered to the man holding her.

"What?" Then Daryl noticed the snarling and a dog leapt out of nowhere, biting the man on the arm, forcing him to let go of Rambo. She stood up and snatched her machete from him and promptly embedded it in another person's shoulder, wrenching it out sharply. The man who the dog attacked stopped screaming when the dog chomped down on his throat, then Vincent turned his gun on the dog with rage in his eyes.

"Shoot him and I promise you, you won't get the chance to get your revenge." Rambo spat, pulling him backwards so his face was on level with hers. Anne was sobbing beside Daryl, not wanting to be seeing what her daughter had become. A single shot rang out and the man behind Daryl fell over, blood soaking his shirt.

"What – ?" Vicky raged, looking around in surprise. Evelyn didn't look around, suddenly finding herself thrown to the ground and her step-dad pinning her with one arm behind her back, knee between her shoulder blades. Daryl stumbled to get to his feet, but Anne was – somehow – faster.

"Leave her alone, you son of a bitch!" She hissed, ramming her shoulder into Vincent. Evelyn pushed herself up, then quietly cut the wire keeping Anne bound, not saying anything. Mother and daughter glared down at him.

"You're going to regret that, Annie." Vincent whispered.

"Lay a finger on her and I'll kill you myself." Daryl snarled, joining Anne and his daughter. Evelyn calmly cut the wire that bound him too, then handed him the machete. She glanced up the hill and nodded once, another shot ringing out and hitting another person in the chest.

"Good to know he isn't as hopeless as he seems." She muttered.

"What?" Daryl asked, looking around at her.

"I made a couple of friends. Happy and Dillan," She explained, then turned to Vicky, "I know you blame me for what happened to the boss. I know you want to take it out on them because it'd hurt me. I know the way you think, it's just like him. You're not human anymore. I understand why. I know who you lost, what you lost, I know you blame you self for that. You don't feel like you deserve to be human anymore. What mother kills their children? And then, to make things worse, you didn't have to. Because August did it for you. And now he's dead. And I caused those events to unfold. So now, for some reason, you think it was me who killed your kids, killed your brother, killed your best friends. You want revenge. So try to take it. Not on them. Don't get them involved. Just me. Combat. One on one. To the death." Anne looked at Rambo like she was crazy.

"Evie – " Daryl shook his head.

"She needs to do this," Rambo looked at him and smiled, nodding in thanks, "Still making it up as you go?" He asked. She thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Pretty much, yeah." Rick had stood up and was crossing over to her.

"Think about this." He said.

"Surprised you're talking to me."

"Believe me, I don't want to be. Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I want to see you dead."

"Such faith in me," Rambo looked back at Vicky, "I can do this. Yeah, she knows me, knows how I fight, my weaknesses. But that works both ways. I've fought her before, in training. I can do this." A new guy arrived on the scene, cutting the nearest person to him loose – Glenn – then passing him a knife. Rambo looked over at him as the dog trotted over to her, blood dripping from its mouth.

"You're an idiot," The newcomer said, "Not going to think this through?"

"Told you before. I'm a Dixon. Not exactly known for our ability to think," She looked back at Vicky, "So how about it? The opportunity to kill me with your own two hands. Sounds like a good deal to me." Vicky thought for a moment, then held out her hand for a weapon. The woman nearest to her stepped forward with a knife, which she accepted.

"Let's get on with it then." She said. Rambo nodded, quickly tying her hair up in a ponytail, revealing the cut on the back of her neck, and adjusted her grip on her machete.

"You guys might want to get back. Not uncommon for this to get a bit out of control." Daryl didn't like it, but he did as Rambo asked, making sure someone kept Anne back while he had a quick word with his daughter.

"So you're admitting you're a Dixon now?" He asked.

"Better late than never." She smiled back. Daryl scoffed, but he was happy that she was accepting the last name, despite them not having been the best of friends when she left.

"Good luck." He grunted.

"Probably gonna need it. Something I didn't say, I never managed to best her in practice." Daryl froze for a moment.

"Don't get yourself killed."

"Great advice, thanks. Now move it, before she decides to take you out first." Daryl walked over to the rest of them to watch, snatching his crossbow away from one of Vicky's men. Anne looked at him.

"So you're just going to let her fight this woman to the death?" She asked, horrified.

"Rambo's got this."

"I've seen her fight. She's saved my arse so many times I've lost count. She'll be fine." The boy said. Carl looked at him, slightly confused.

"How long have you two been – "

"Travelling together? Not long. I'm Dillan."

"No one cares, Dill!" Rambo called back, not taking her eyes off Vicky, who smirked.

"Oh look, another person for me to kill once I'm finished with you."

"It's surprising no one dropped dead as soon as they saw your face, it's so horrifying."

"You're gonna pay for that one."

"Enough chit chat. Can we just get on with killing each other already?"

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Then Vicky threw herself at Rambo, who only just managed to get out of the way of the knife, trying to get a slice in with her machete. Daryl watched as they tried exchanging blows, tense. Rambk was a good fighter, but not exactly in one on one fights, not always anyway. Sometimes she lost track of what was happening in them, lost track of where her opponent was, of where the weapons were. He didn't even know what had happened back at the League base of operations, just knew that when she showed up again her arm was sliced open – again – and she was pretty bashed up. He wanted to help her, but knew that if he did they'd all get killed. That was just how the League worked. She was stupid to do this. Chances were that if she did manage to kill this woman, Vincent would just take over. He glanced over at the man, now standing with his men, and thought of all the ways he'd like to kill him. While he was distracted, Rambo managed to get the upper hand – somehow – and disarmed Vicky, shoving her to the ground and pointing her machete at the woman's throat, sweat beading on her forehead as she looked down at Vicky, panting heavily. She glanced over at her mom, seeing how afraid the woman was, how little she wanted to see her daughter kill someone. Rambo paused, a little unsure of what to do, then stepped backwards, lowering her weapon and shaking her head.

"I don't want to kill you." She said, making Daryl turn his attention back to her. Beside him Anne breathed out heavily with relief as the girl walked away, turning her back on Vicky.

"That's too bad," Vicky sneered, "Because I want to kill you." No one saw what happened next coming. Vicky drew a gun and pointed it at Rambo, pulling the trigger without hesitation. It was like time slowed down. Daryl raised his crossbow and shot Vicky just as Evelyn started falling to the ground, blood seeping onto her shirt around her shoulder, a cry of pain escaping her. The dog shot forwards and pounced on Vincent as he started lunging towards his step-daughter, murder in his eyes. Anne was frozen in horror at what had just happened. Then Carl and Enid slipped past Rick to check on Rambo, who was only just holding onto consciousness. Daryl lowered his crossbow, a single bolt in the back of Vicky's skull.

"Anyone else want to try anything?" Rick yelled at Vicky's men, "We have a pissed of dad and overly protective mom here, so if I were you I'd go. Before anyone else gets killed." The remaining League members thought for a moment, but clearly they weren't as experienced as either Vicky or Vincent, so they just dropped the weapons of Rick's group and left, slinking back into the forest. Daryl went over to Rambo and pressed his hand against the wound to try and stop the bleeding. She winced in pain, but didn't object.

"So that's what being shot feels like." She muttered, her face draining of colour.

"Evie..." Anne whimpered, collapsing to her knees next to her daughter.

"Oh God... Sound like that again and I swear that you will never see me again. I had enough of that already, and you never did anything to help back then either." There was venom in her voice and Anne looked away. Daryl frowned, but didn't say anything.

"No exit hole." Carl said, looking up at Daryl.

"Bullet's still in there." Michonne muttered.

"Hmm... might be nice if someone got it out." Evelyn planted a false smile on her face and Daryl shook his head.

"Idiot."

"Getting the dad treatment, huh? Always when I've done something to try and save your butt." She was starting to lose consciousness.

"Grow some balls, would ya? Don't go fainting on me, you're a Dixon. You're stronger than that."

"If ya say so." She shook her head and rubbed her cheek, struggling to keep her eyes open. Daryl looked over at Eugene.

"Think you can get it out?" He asked.

"I can try."

"Thanks Doc. You're the best. Speaking of docs..." Rambo looked at Daryl while Eugene took his place, "What happened to that nurse?"

"Went with a group that needed him more."

"Interesting." She stopped talking and just did her best to watch what Eugene was doing, obeying him whenever he ordered her to do something – like take her shirt off so he could see the wound better. She wasn't nude, she had a singlet on underneath (she'd found it in the last safety cache), and it helped Eugene get a better look at the wound. They didn't really talk until the next day when they'd gotten a bit of rest and Evelyn was patched up.

* * *

 **Merry Christmas everyone! I realised I hadn't updated in a while, so here we go! My present to you all! Now I just have to work out how to continue this story haha, bit of writer's block, but I shall overcome! Hope your Christmas is better than Evelyn's.**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Start of the outbreak_**

 _Anne made up her mind. There was no way to avoid this. They had to go on their own. The way Evie had been acting there was no way that she would play well with others, if anything she'd probably out them in more danger. And she hadn't been looking too good. She seemed to be getting worse, not better, and she was developing a fever, though Anne had no idea how or why. It worried her. And it was clearly worrying those around them. She looked over at the dark haired man, a guy called Shane, and nodded. They'd already had the conversation. He knew what she was planning to do, though he hadn't told anyone else. He calmly nodded back, though he still didn't look too happy about the idea, thinking that if Evie needed help then they should give it to her, but he respected Anne's decision._

 _"Evie," Anne shook the girl awake, "Evie, we're going."_

 _"Don't call me 'Evie'," She muttered, sounding groggy, struggling to open her eyes, "Where are we going?"_

 _"Don't know yet. Somewhere... not here."_

 _"Well aren't you a genius. Taking us away from people who could help us," Slowly she sat up and grabbed her crutches, then looked expectantly at Anne, "We going or not?" She asked her shocked mother. Anne slowly nodded, swinging her bag over one shoulder. Sometimes her daughter really worried her. She was supposed to be a child, not... whatever she was acting like. It was almost like her daughter was looking after her, not the other way around. They walked off without a single glance back, vanishing into the gloom._

 _ **Now**_

She woke up feeling a little groggy the next day, half wishing that the previous day had simply been a bad dream. But the pain in her shoulder told her otherwise. Slowly she looked around the camp at all the sleeping figures around her. Happy was fast asleep next to her, snoring slightly, Dillan on the other side of the camp, being surprisingly quiet, though, judging by the slow rise and fall of his chest, he was still asleep. Rambo stood up with a quiet hiss of pain and headed towards the edge of the camp, over to where Daryl was sitting watch, and plonked down next to him. He glanced over at her, then looked away. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"It's good to see you." Daryl admitted after a bit. Rambo smiled.

"Same," She glanced down at her hands, rubbing the scar on her arm awkwardly, "How loan has she been travelling with you?" She asked quietly, nodding towards her sleeping mom. Daryl looked at Anne and shrugged.

"Not long. She's pissed at me I ever let you leave."

"Why'd you tell her that you ever met me?" Rambo frowned, looking up at Daryl in confusion.

"You're her kid. She deserved to know."

"She abandoned me."

"Even if I hadn't told her, she'd have found out by now. Especially after the stunt that you just pulled."

"What, you reckon I shoulda just left you lot to get your butts handed to you by Vincent? Right, like I'd ever let that happen. Stupid bastard should never have messed with you." Her eyes flicked over to where Vincent was tied up, fast asleep. He was waiting to see what his punishment would be. Something told Rambo that he'd probably let go. Anne didn't have the strongest stomach in the world and didn't look like she likes the idea of anyone being killed if she could avoid it. Daryl just grunted, not seeming too fussed, but his eyes were also locked on the other man. Daryl hated him, though it was hard to say exactly why.

"How's your shoulder?"

"I got shot. How do you think it is?" Rambo challenged, but it wasn't too snappy. She sighed, leaning her head on Daryl's shoulder and closing her eyes. She was still tired, but she knew she wasn't going to get any more sleep. She was too used to being on her own for stuff like that, to only getting enough sleep until she was able to continue on. Daryl didn't say anything, just let his daughter lean on him for as long as she wanted, more than a little surprised that she was trusting him so quickly and easily now, considering how long it had taken the first time. Then he put one arm carefully around her shoulder, being careful not to touch her wound.

"You and Anne... together, or just... being awkward?" Rambo asked after a moment. Daryl couldn't help but smile a little at how awkward she sounded.

"Awkward." He admitted.

"She's going to want to talk to me, isn't she?"

"You're her kid. She hasn't seen you for a while."

"Well whose fault is that?" Rambo growled, "I didn't want her to go, for ages I wanted her back... but now..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed. Daryl half turned around so he could look Rambo in the eye and she pulled away so that she could look at him. This was awkward enough for him, he didn't know how to do the dad thing, and Rambo didn't really know how to do the daughter thing. But there they were, giving it a go.

"She's your mom. Yeah, she left you. Give her a chance, like you did for me. Trust me, she regrets her choice."

"Then she shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Evelyn – "

"Rambo," She corrected automatically, smiling in embarrassment when Daryl raised an eyebrow at her, "The name suits me more than Evelyn does, I think." Daryl chuckled.

"It does," Then he sobered, "Just a chance, kid. That's all. You told me when we had our first real heart to heart that even after everything, you still loved her. Maybe you're starting to wonder if that's still true, but just... give her a chance and see," He paused, "She probably knows you better than I do. You have a history. I think that's a good enough reason to give her a second chance." Rambo raised an eyebrow.

"We done with the whole crying on each other's shoulders thing?"

"Hell yes." Daryl turned away and Rambo grinned.

"Good to have my dad back." She mumbled, then went back to using him as a backrest. Daryl just scoffed, picking up his knife and a random stick and starting to sharpen it for something to do.

* * *

Dillan walked over to Rambo later in the day, sitting down next to her as she had her bandages checked by Eugene again. She threw him a quick smile, then scowled as Eugene pressed a little to hard on her wound.

"Watch it!" She snapped. Eugene muttered and apology, which Rambo just brushed away, then turned to look at Dillan again.

"Sup?"

"Not much. Just not exactly sure what I should be doing." Dillan admitted, shrugging.

"Why are you telling me?"

"Because you asked."

"Ha, serves me right for showing an interest," Rambo scoffed, then muttered her thanks as Eugene walked off after he'd finished redressing her wound, "I'm fairly certain you've got a couple of questions for me... Don't you?" She gave him a knowing look and he smirked.

"Yeah, just a couple," He paused, thinking, "I thought you said your parents were dead?" He asked after a moment. Rambo shook her head.

"I said I lost them, I think. Pretty sure I didn't say they were dead. I never knew what happened to my mom, didn't know my dad until about a year ago, maybe a bit more. Partially because of him I left. Not..." She paused, trying to figure out how to word it, "He didn't make me leave. I chose to so that I could help them, so I could distract the League while they went the other way. Probably the dumbest choice of my life."

"No kidding." Carl came over and sat in front of Rambo and Dillan, calmly taking the scrap of cloth off his wrist and handing it to Rambo, who took it silently.

"I'm not going to apologize." She scowled, glaring at Carl.

"Apologize for what?" Dillan asked, suddenly even more confused, though he had thought that impossible. Rambo didn't take her eyes off Carl.

"I might have left without telling anyone. Carl went after me because he guessed I'd stop off at a safety cache that he knew where was. He guessed right. Tried talking me out of leaving." She smirked and Carl scowled.

"She knocked me out, even with her arm cut up. Actually, she was pretty beaten up."

"Hey, you don't need to tell him that!"

"She got in a fight and had her butt kicked."

"Shut up, right now, Grimesy Jr!" Rambo growled, jaw clenched.

"Her face turned so many pretty colours." Now Carl was smirking.

"I still managed to throw that guy off a roof to a bunch of walkers, I still won that fight. Please remember that." Carl just laughed and Dillan looked at Rambo in mild shock.

"I knew you were blood thirsty, but not THAT blood thirsty!"

"The guy was hardly leaving me any choice. I mean, he was also trying to throw me off the roof. Well, kill me at the very least," She shrugged, "Just goes to show you should just kill someone and be done with it rather than play around with them first." Dillan shook his head. This was ridiculous. A woman walked over, seeming rather cautious. Rambo's face fell, changing to a look of mild disgust. 0Dillan and Carl shared looks before getting up and making excuses to leave. Rambo stood up and started walking away, not saying anything. She really didn't want to talk to her mom, not now. She was still working through the part where her mom was actually still alive, and travelling with her dad who she only met a year ago. It was too much to talk to her right now.

"Evie." Anne called after her. Rambo froze, then turned around, eyes narrowing.

"Don't call me that. I hate that name. Makes me seem..." She pulled a face. Anne sighed.

"Evelyn, then," Rambo scoffed in disgust, but she didn't say anything, "We need to talk."

"No, we really don't."

"Yes, we do." Anne said it forcefully, like a mother should, leaving no room for argument. Rambo scowled, folding her arms.

"You have five minutes. Get talking." Anne sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry I ever left you. I didn't think – "

"No, you didn't. You never did. First you go and get pregnant with me, OK. That one I can understand, I'm a pretty fabulous kid with an awesome dad and ever more awesome uncle who fucked up my life, even though I never met him," Her voice held a note of sarcasm, despite dripping with loathing, "Then you go marry Vincent here," She pointed at the man, not bothering to look at him, "At first I thought that maybe he wouldn't be too bad. But just one conversation with him and I knew that he was fucked up in the head. Then he starts beating me up, and then you. And I stood up for you. I was a kid! Two fucking years I did my best to protect you, and what did you ever do for me?! You took me away from Aunt Jenna, you never tried to protect me, when you should have, I was a child. You should have left the little fucker, but you didn't. You _HELPED_ him. When he wanted a cover up for my injuries, you helped him," Anne tried to say something, but Rambo held up her hand to stop her, "No, let me finish. When you did grow a pair, the bloody apocalypse started. I was in crap condition. I got stressed, I got sick, and what did you do? When I needed you the most, you left me. Alone. In a caravan in the middle of nowhere with almost no supplies and one stupid, tattered up old journal with lots of 'I wish Daryl was here' and 'She's my biggest mistake'. I needed you, and you got up and left without so much as a fucking good bye!" Rambo stood there, panting slightly. She paid no attention to the hurt look in her mother's eye, the scowl seeming to be stuck on her face. Slowly she relaxed, her breathing returning to normal.

"So tell me," She said, struggling to keep from yelling and her voice even, "How does staying sorry fix any of that? Especially because of what happened afterwards, what happened to me after you left which, quite frankly, I'm going to be nice to you and not say." Anne swallowed.

"I thought..." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"Wow, you mean that you're actually capable of thinking? I'm impressed. Care to tell me what you were thinking?"

"I left because I thought you were going to die."

"Yeah. So you just left me. Because everyone wants to turn into a fucking walker when they die."

"I didn't know!"

"I read your journal," Rambo spat, "You knew." Anne couldn't think of how to reply. She just froze. Rambo shook her head, laughing spitefully, a hurt look in her eyes. She took half a step towards Anne so she could whisper and still be heard. She hadn't actually noticed that she was slightly taller than her mom, hadn't been close enough to the woman to find out until now.

"You never cared about anyone but yourself. You're a selfish bitch and I'm kinda glad you left me. If you'd stayed I probably would be dead," Slowly Rambo stepped back, turning away from her mom, "Good talk, Anne. Real good talk. I feel so much better." Anne just stood there, watching her daughter walk away.

* * *

 **Think Rambo's being a little harsh? Who knows, they might work it out, but then again... they might not. Oooo, trouble in paradise, though it isn't really paradise...?**


	12. Chapter 12

Rambo still hadn't returned to the group when it was getting dark. Happy hadn't been seen since then, either, which was something that sort of helped put Anne's mind at ease. The rest of them hadn't really minded, they knew that Rambo could look after herself... so long as she didn't do something to make her injury worse. Then she didn't return by morning, either, and some of the others were starting to get worried, mainly that she wouldn't actually come back. Dillan was the first to actually voice this, though, mostly because he knew she had wanted to leave after dropping him off with the rest of the group. By the time she actually rejoined them, three days later, Daryl was the only one who thought she'd come back. Not that she said anything when she did come back. Just chucked a bag with a few tins of food and a couple of squirrels down on the ground in front of Rick and went to climb a tree, one that she didn't come down from until it was time to eat. Then she just sat next to Daryl not saying anything and not even glancing in Anne's direction. It was really quite awkward. To make matters worse there was still Vincent to deal with. Only reason he hadn't been killed already was Anne, though by the look in Rambo's eye she was planning the best way to get away with murdering the bastard. Daryl stood up and jerked his head, motioning for Rambo to follow him. For a moment she just glared, but then grudgingly stood up, wincing a little as pain shot through her shoulder where she'd been shot, and followed him a reasonable distance from the group where none of them would overhear their discussion. Then he turned to face her, crossing his arms and glaring.

"What?" Rambo snapped, leaning back against a tree.

"Thought we agreed you'd give her a chance." He grunted.

"No, you told me I should give her a chance. I never said I would."

"She's your mom."

"She's just some random lady. Who I'm currently very pissed at. I'm sure you got pissed with your folks and brother," Daryl didn't say anything and Rambo growled, pushing away from the tree and running a hand through her hair irritably, "I'm giving her a chance. Just she has to find the right time and the right way of making that chance work. You had to work your way into my life. So does she. And I am not gonna make it easy for her, because you at least had the excuse of not knowing about me. She, on the other hand, does not."

"Rambo – "

"Whatever you're gonna say, I don't care. And I don't want to care. People are complicated and stupid and have way too many emotions and I'd swear that Anne is worse than most, and somehow she also manages to be one of the worst."

"Thought that was Vincent."

"Oh, he is the worst. Fucking ass hole." Daryl smirked and glanced over at Vincent, still tied up and gagged, though by the way he was going he was probably gonna eat the gag soon. Rambo reached up and swung herself into a tree one handed, nestling herself comfortably between the branch and the trunk, looking down at Daryl.

"Yeah, sure, a part of me still wants to love Anne, but quite frankly the rest of me wants to do to her what she did to me. I want to leave her alone, leave her to experience what it's like to feel abandoned and alone. I'll be nice and not break her bones or leave her to get sick and die. I don't want her dead, not... not really... but I don't want to be around her. I don't want to have to wake up every day and have to see her, don't want to have to think about everything that she put me through. I don't want to have to worry about protecting her, which is what I'm going to have to do if I stay around her. Because damn it, I'm too fucking loyal." Rambo looked at her hands, cleaning the dirt from under her fingernails. Daryl scoffed.

"You're a Dixon. Get used to it," Rambo smirked, "Grow a pair and suck it up. You could hate her guts and you'd still die for her."

"I know," Rambo muttered, "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

* * *

They'd waited long enough to decide what Vincent's fate would be. They had put it to a vote. Release him or kill him. Barbaric, yes, but the way Rick put it, he was a danger and he'd never stop going after them, not now that he knew where his wife and step daughter were, not now after everything that they'd done to him and his team. Some of them argued that Vincent was still a person, and that killing him would make the group as bad as he was. Enid and Judith were somewhere else, Enid only because she volunteered to look after the youngest member of the group.

"He's still a person, flesh and blood, like us." Someone pointed out, a couple of people murmuring their agreement. Rambo sighed, flicking the blade of a knife for the sake of something to do. She then threw it point down into the dirt and stood up, glaring at the person who had spoken.

"Yeah, he's a person. Sure, flesh and blood, but he's nothing like you lot. He kills for fun, bashes little kids up, attacks women, all for no reason. He attacked you lot to lure me out. He doesn't care what happens to you. As soon as you idiots let him go, he's gonna run off, find help, come back with an even larger team, and then he's gonna wipe us all off the playing field. And if you're really gonna use the 'flesh and blood' argument, you might wanna think about who the Walkers we kill used to be. Flesh and blood. Just like us. And most of them would have been ten times the person this fuckwit is."

"Evie – " Anne started, but stopped when Rambo shot her a glare.

"Don't call me that." Rambo hissed, turning her back on Anne and heading back to her knife. Anne set her jaw in a firm line.

"Vincent may be a monster, yes, but no one deserves to die. I don't want to be responsible for killing my own husband."

"You know, I bet he doesn't even counted as your husband anymore..." Rambo muttered, "That piece of paper probably blew up when the world went to crap. I say we kill him and be done with it."

"He isn't – "

"Evelyn's right," Rambo looked around in mild surprise at Rick, "If we just let him go he's just going to cause more trouble." He didn't sound too happy about admitting it, but admit it he did.

"How about we put it to a vote?" Dillan suggested in the silence that followed, "Anyone in favour of chopping the guy's tongue out and letting him drown on his own blood?" Rambo looked at him in pure bewilderment. That did not sound like Dillan. He just smiled at her sheepishly.

"Alright, anyone in favour of killing Vincent, put your hand up," A few people did, including Rambo, "And those in favour of letting him go, put your hand up." Dillan said once those people put their hands down. There were some who didn't put their hand up for either, but Anne put her hand up for this option. Daryl carefully didn't put his hand up for either, not wanting to choose sides against his ex and his daughter. In the end it was a tie. Dillan sighed.

"Right, I guess it's up to me to break the tie," He muttered, then locked eyes with Rambo, "I've seen the evidence of what he did to Rambo. If he was that bad before the outbreak, then what's he like now?" He looked up at Rick, "If it's not too late to vote, I say we should at least do something that's going to prevent him doing any harm in the future. Which pretty much, judging by the way everything is now, it's probably nicer just to kill him." Rick nodded.

"Guess we have our answer then," He muttered, looking around at Rambo, "Seeing as you're the one he hurt most..." He let his words hang in the air, getting a little put off by the smirk that appeared on Rambo's face.

"It'd be my pleasure," Her eyes drifted over to Vincent and hardened, an ice-cold glint in them as she stood up, grabbing her machete, "Anyone who doesn't want to see this, get lost. And make sure that Anne goes too," She paused for a moment before muttering quietly to herself, "Though I doubt she'd want to see this." Vincent watched her movements silently, a hint of fear in the depths of his eyes, which mostly reflected his defiance. Most of the people there left, but Daryl stayed behind. He didn't exactly know the effect this would have on Rambo afterwards, and he just felt like he shouldn't leave her alone.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asked her quietly.

"More sure than I have been of anything in my life." Rambo muttered back. She sounded more determined than she ever had, and there was an edge to her voice that made Daryl feel a little uneasy, but he understood. Rambo stepped forward, grabbed Vincent by the hair and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. She gently ran the edge of her machete across his throat, making his swallow involuntarily before drawing back and slicing neatly across before letting go of his hair and letting him fall lifelessly to the ground, blood seeping into a pool around him.

"We're gonna want to get moving," She muttered, turning away from Vincent, "Walkers'll be here soon." She sheathed her machete and picked up a knife, turning around and stabbing the body in the head in three different places, just for the sake of it, before handing the knife over to Daryl, who took it wordlessly.

"Feel any better?" He asked a little while later. Rambo shook her head.

"Nope."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't feel sad, if that's what you're worried about," She paused, "Well, not sad about him being dead. I just feel slightly sad I hadn't done that sooner."

* * *

 **OK, really, really sorry I haven't updated this in ages, major case of writers block which I hate. Still got it, really... I'll try to update more regularly, but no promises because this is one of this he or stood cases I've had in a long time and I honestly have no clue how Anne and Rambo are gonna make up... or if they are...**


	13. Chapter 13

The group decided it was time to push on. People knew where they were, and chances were that someone would come after them as well as walkers probably having been drawn to their location by their being there for so long. Daryl and Rick were up the front, discussing something that seemed to be pretty important. Rambo had the feeling they were talking about her. She kept glancing over to where Anne was. Her mother was walking with Sacha and Maggie, talking about something else quietly. Again, Rambo got the impression they were talking about her. It out her on edge, made her feel uncomfortable. Hell, just travelling with the group made her feel uncomfortable. Dillan was walking on one side of her, not saying anything, Carl walking on the other with Judith on his back, Enid on his other side. Eventually Carl broke the silence between them.

"Think she's ever gonna get over you killing him?" He asked. No one had to ask who he was on about. Rambo shook her head.

"Nope. She doesn't like the idea that her little girl grew up to be a murderer," She scoffed looking down at her feet while she walked, "Chances are I'd've turned out a criminal anyway." She muttered, playing with the strip of fabric around her wrist and frowning.

"What?" Dillan asked her.

"How come?" From Enid.

"My uncle was, and my grandpappy didn't sound like a model citizen. Somehow I doubt that Dad was, either. Vincent only got where he was through blackmail and other underhand techniques, and my aunt was pretty underhand too. The only half decent person who I grew up around or was in my family, I hate to admit, was Anne. And she has no back bone." Rambo stopped, pulling her head band off and untying it.

"What are you doing?" Carl asked, stopping a couple of steps after her, Dillan and Enid stopping when they heard him speak. Rambo didn't reply, just took off the strips of fabric from her wrist and machete, then quickly scaled a tree nearby and tied each of them around a slightly thinner branch before jumping to the ground, leaving the dirtied, bloodied, torn fabric behind.

"We better catch up." She told them, striding straight past. Carl, Enid, and Dillan shared confused looks before following after Rambo.

"Hey!" Dillan called before he caught up with Rambo, jogging a bit so he could over take her, placing a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to slow down, "Why'd you do that?" He asked. Rambo sighed, shaking her head slightly while she thought.

"Anne gave it to me back when all this shit started. I kept it to remind me of... stuff. I don't want it any more. Simple as that."

"You look weird without it," Carl muttered, "You've always had it."

"And now it's time I got rid of it," She smirked, "It was getting horrible anyway. Dirty, bloody, torn... woulda broken soon anyway. I can always find a new head band."

"And wrist... thing," Enid said, smiling a little when Rambo looked over at her, "You're not Rambo without them, you know."

"And there was me thinking you still hated me." Rambo smirked at her. Enid shifted slightly, uncomfortable with how this conversation had turned.

"I never... hated you... exactly." She eventually managed to get out.

"I know. You just saw me as a threat." Rambo grinned evilly as Enid blushed. Carl frowned, confused, and jumped slightly so Judith was more securely on his back.

"Threat?" He asked.

"Oh yeah," Rambo chuckled, looking back to where Daryl and Rick were, "Enid has a massive crush on you."

"What?!" Enid blurted out, "I... I don't..."

"I honestly wish I had a camera right now," Dillan laughed, looking from Enid to Carl, who was also going a little red, "Hey, want me to carry Judith for a bit?" He asked.

"Um... sure..." Carl stopped, letting Judith slide from his back before helping her onto Dillan's back. Rambo hadn't actually realised just how much taller he was than Carl, hadn't actually realised how much he had changed from that kid she had met up with... comparatively not that long ago, actually. For a moment she thought of Felix, what sort of thing he'd be saying in this sort of situation. That guy was always great to have around, always finding a way to laugh, even in the worst situations. It was always good to have a friend like that.

"Did you have a crush on Carl?" Dillan asked suddenly, a sly smirk on his lips. Rambo looked at him in shock, her steps faltering a bit.

"The hell did that come from?" She asked, "Course not! He was just the first friend I – " She stopped herself from finishing that sentence. She had been about to say that he was the first friend she'd had who was similar to her in age, but... she couldn't. She didn't want them to pity her. She'd had enough of their pity.

"So you were never a threat to Enid?" Dillan asked again, still slightly teasingly.

"Do I seem like the kind of person capable of that sort of feeling?" Rambo asked, rather grumpily, frowning when she saw Daryl turn and beckon to her, "Nice chat, guys, but I gotta go talk to my dad apparently. Go crazy, but no wild parties, alright kiddies?" She sped up, jogging over to Daryl and Rick, purposely avoiding Anne. Dillan, Carl, Enid, and Judith watched her go, all about as confused as each other. Rambo ignored them, falling into step with Daryl.

"What'd you want?" She asked.

"Are you planning on staying?" Rick asked, Daryl staying silent.

"I... I dunno actually. Hadn't really thought on it. I mean..." She frowned slightly, "I'd like to, but I'm not sure if I'm... if I'm actually able to, you know? I mean... It's just slightly..." Her frown turned into a scowl, "I want to but I don't know how things would work out with Anne."

"Do you want to stay?" Rick asked, rephrasing the question slightly. Rambo nodded.

"Course I do." Rick sighed.

"I have some questions, and I'd like you to answer honestly."

"You really need to?" Daryl growled, "We already know her."

"Whatever your questions are, ask them. I'm gonna answer honestly, it's the least I can do... considering I almost got you killed twice." Rick looked down at her, not as far as he used to have to though. She'd grown a lot in the past year. It seemed like a lot of people had, and not just physically.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He asked, thrusting the thoughts to the back of his mind.

"More than I know. Hundreds, at least." Rick hid a small smile. He'd been expecting that answer.

"How many people have you killed?" HE was dreading the answer to this one slightly. Rambo shrugged.

"That one I lost track of, but no where near as many people as undead freaks. And some of them I regret more than I can say."

"Why?" Rambo took in a deep breath, getting her thoughts into order.

"Well..."

* * *

 **OK, so again it's pretty short, but I thought this was a good way to end things. Sorry, I can be nasty sometimes. Hope you enjoyed :) Thank you to everyone who kept up with everything and thanks for your support and actually telling me to update, really helped me to get things back into motion again, even if it was just for a couple of chapters. And thank you for reviews and so on, really helped me out. Just a big thank you in general really.**


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